Saving Sara
by oceanwave1
Summary: COMPLETE. One second can change everything... people, emotions, and lives. What happens when Sara disappears? NS
1. A Game

Title: Saving Sara  
Author: oceanwave  
Rating: PG  
Summary: Please just read…and you'll find out. Please review.  
Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters, They are the property of the creators, producers of CSI. There are some characters who I own, i.e. Mark and Traci.  
Author's Note: This is my first fiction, so please be nice. If you honestly don't like it, tell me, review. Cuz I can easily end it. Well, hope you like it so far! Please review!  
  
"Popcorn, beer; get your popcorn and beer here!"  
"Hey want anything?" He asked the woman beside him. She shook her head,  
"How can you eat that stuff?" she questioned  
"Come on, it's part of the experience, beer, baseball, and loud people." He smiled, ordering a cold beer.  
  
'I can't believe I'm here," she groaned.  
"Listen, I'll be right back, I have to go get some drinks. Want anything?" He questioned.  
She smiled uncomfortably. "I'm fine," shaking her bottled water in the air. Although it was clear that she was just having a miserable time. She wondered how she managed to go to a baseball game on her day off. Slowly, she scanned for her seat, spotting a couple kissing a few rows ahead.  
She rolled her eyes; but she walked down the stairs. Out of all the seats, I have to sit beside them. The man had his body away from her, the woman deeply caught in a kiss. She was amazed, annoyed, and just plain irritated. She sat down.  
"Sara!" the man called out.   
"Over here!" She waved, as he walked closer, beer, hat, and camera in hand.  
  
Caught in a passionate kiss, he stared into the woman's eyes, thinking about her beautiful eyes. This was perfect; he was away from his job; away from Warrick, Greg, Grissom, Catherine, and Sara. He heard her name, her voice, he froze. 'Sara?' he questioned.  
He turned, smiled. He looked observantly at the woman next to him. Sara.  
  
"I never knew baseball was your thing," he whispered.  
She flung around, irritated.  
  
"Listen -" she spoke. "Nick!?"  
"Hi beach, I see you made a friend," her companion called out. Nick raised an eyebrow. 'Beach?'  
"Hi, I'm Nick," he introduced himself." I work with Sara," he smiled mischievously at Sara.  
"Nice to meet you, I'm Mark," the man replied.  
"I'm annoyed," Sara interjected, glaring at Nick.  
"Oh, and you must Traci, Nick's flavor of the month," she greeted. Introducing herself cynically to Nick's kissing partner.  
"Nice to meet you, she answered.  
  
'Whoa, she must have used a paint-by-number process for her make-up.' Sara commented to herself.  
'Damn, she looks good' Nick commented. Smiling, uncontrollably at Sara. Her hair flowed to her shoulders, wearing a Texas Rangers tank top and jeans that hugged her hips.  
  
"Rangers fan?" he quickly questioned, hoping that she didn't notice his staring.  
"Not really," she smiled. 'God he looked good."  
  
"Do you know how hard it was to convince her to come to his game?" Mark stated. Nick smiled, and arched an eyebrow.  
Sara glared at both smiling men. But before she could say a word, the announcer's voice filled the stadium, the crowd roared.  
  
"Welcome to Edison Field, home of the Anaheim Angels. Today we welcome the Texas Rangers from Arlington, Texas." the announcer boomed. Nick jumped at the mention of Texas. Everyone was on their feet, all but Sara.  
'I hate this game!' She silently screamed inside.  
  
Later  
  
"Please welcome our mascot, and get ready for the 7th inning stretch," the announcer said. The mascot emerged from the dugout, running around, entertaining the crown.  
He approached people, giving them gifts, kisses, and just making a complete idiot of himself.  
  
Sara slumped in her chair, waiting for the game to end. But was amused by the little man trapped in the mascot's body. She looked on as it approached.  
'What now?' She questioned.  
  
The mascot looked at her, and then at Nick, motioned her to move closer. She refused.  
"Come on Sara," Nick pleaded.  
"You're getting him upset," he smiled.  
  
She still didn't move. But smiled annoyingly when the announced came on.  
  
"Would the lady in the Texas Rangers shirt, please give the good looking man beside her, a little peck," it ordered teasingly.  
  
She still didn't moved, she was not amused.  
  
He leaned in closer, smelling her watermelon shampoo. He smiled, before giving her a quick peck on the cheek. The crowd roared and applauded.  
  
'What the?' She thought, being caught off guard. She stared at Nick's chocolate brown eyes. Her cheek burning. She was confused; was she happy? Angry?  
  
"Sara, are you ok?" Traci questioned. Sara forced out a smile and shifted her body away from Nick and Traci.  
"Aren't you glad I scored us these awesome seats?" Mark asked proudly. Knowing that his efforts should be rewarded.  
"No, I am not happy. Although you did land great tickets, I don't even understand why I'm here. I hate baseball, I hate watching baseball, and I HATE sitting on these damn seats." she commented. Never raising her tone; but the color of her skin said volumes. The game went on, and there was silence amongst the four seats.  
As the game ended, the crowd disappointed at the loss. The four filled out the door, following the crowd.  
  
"I guess I'll you later," Nick finally broke the silence. He smiled uncomfortably at Sara. Traci waved, walking towards Nick's Tahoe.  
"Bye," Mark called out.  
Sara stood there, calm, but was embarrassed by the scene she had caused.  
"Listen, Mark. I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to sound bitter or ungrateful, it was just that-"  
"It's ok, I shouldn't have forced you to go," Mark answered, "I'm gonna go, but if you want to get together some other time, you know where to reach me," he continued.  
"I'm really sorry that this mini-reunion didn't quite turn out to well," she apologized. "Just tell people back in Tamales Bay, that I said hello," she continued.  
"OK, I will. And you have a safe drive to Las Vegas, and once you get there, try not to bite Nick's head off. He's seems like a great guy," he said, giving Sara a quick hug.  
"It's gonna be hard, but I'll try," she smiled. "Bye."  
  
Mark waved, as Sara walked towards her Tahoe, the bright artificial glow of the ballpark lights illuminating the highlights in her hair. Upon reaching her Tahoe, she sighed.  
'Vegas. I guess it's back to work for you Sidle." She thought, as she started the car. 


	2. Special Delivery

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters; they are the property of the creators, producers of CSI. Please don't sue me, I'm just a student.  
  
All was silent, which was unusual for the lab. It must be a slow night. He walked towards the heavy security doors, and searched for his ID. He sighed as he went through the doors and smelled the coffee brewing in the break room. He headed towards the locker room; spotting Warrick as he entered went past the first row of lockers.  
"So..." Warrick began.  
"How as your weekend?" he questioned.  
  
Nick smiled.  
"It was great," he answered. "Traci had a lot of fun. Thanks again for the tickets."  
"Anything else?" Warrick quizzed. Nick turned his head, smile pasted on his face,  
"Nope."  
  
"Come on, you wouldn't have the smile pasted on your face, if nothing was up," Warrick wondered, but stopped when Catherine walked into the room.  
"Hey guys, Grissom wants us in his office ASAP. So stop talking about girls, and hurry," she winked and walked away.  
  
As they all assembled around the break room, Warrick, Catherine Nick, and even Greg, Grissom walked into the room. Worried, emotions seemingly transparent today. Everyone was now worried, something was wrong.  
He sat down, taking off his glasses, exhaling, and running his fingers through his hair. The silence was deafening.  
  
"Grissom, what's wrong?" Catherine finally questioned. Both Nick and Warrick looked on as they observed the frustrated, and usually calm Grissom speak, communicating fear, taking deep breaths.  
  
"Sara's gone," he managed to squeak out.  
Catherine and Warrick stopped, and stared at their boss intently. Nick stopped breathing, in shock and remembering what had happened at the game.  
  
"What do you mean she's gone?" Warrick questioned, desperation in his tone.  
  
"The highway patrol found her Tahoe abandoned on I-15," Grissom explained, trying to gain back his composure.  
"It seems that she was coming back from LA," he continued.  
"From a baseball game in Anaheim," Nick continued.  
  
All looked at him, all except for Warrick, who didn't seem surprised at Nick's comment.  
"I saw you on TV," Greg chimed in, somewhat sounding cheerful.  
  
The group glared at him, but quickly returned to Nick.  
  
"I saw her in Anaheim, we were watching a baseball game. She was with her friend, Matt, Mike, or someone," Nick explained.  
"I was with Traci," he breathed out.  
  
Grissom sighed, "When was the last time you saw her?"  
Nick looked up. 'Oh god, Sara, where are you,' he thought.  
"Um, after the game in the parking lot. She didn't have a good time at the game, so Traci and I decided to head back, instead of having dinner with Sara."  
  
"OK, that's a start. Why don't' you go to Brass and tell him about all you know," he nodded for Nick to exit the room.  
All sat, silent, but Grissom stood up, ready to leave.  
  
"Wait, what are we suppose to do," Catherine questioned.  
"Nothing," Grissom slid his chair back.  
"Nothing? Who's going to handle this case?" Warrick questioned.  
"I'm giving it to another team. We can't get involved in this, Sara's too close to us. We might let our emotions get in the way," Grissom concluded.  
  
With eyes filled with anger and disapproval, Nick stood up.  
"I don't know about you, but you know damn well that we should be the ones to investigate this. She's one of us, and I know that you wouldn't let anything happen to Sara," Nick yelled.  
Surprised, Grissom turned.  
"No," Grissom said firmly.  
  
The room was still, emotions running high. Suddenly, a deliveryman walked in.  
"Package for Nick Stokes. Sign here please," the deliveryman indicated.  
Nick walked over, still staring coldly at Grissom and signed the sheet. He accepted the parcel, 'what in the world could this be?' He questioned.  
  
As he opened it in front to everyone, he gasped. The team quickly gathered around the box. It was a tank top soaked in blood. Texas Rangers, it read on the front. 


	3. Owls

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters; they are the property of the creators, producers of CSI. Please don't sue me, I'm just a student.  
  
"Where did you get this?" Grissom questioned the deliveryman.  
"I don't know, it was sent over, and I was told to come here," he explained. It was clear that the young deliveryman was scared and confused. Grissom motioned for him to leave, and he did so, running out of the room, almost slamming into the doorframe.  
  
'Breathe Gil, breath,' he assured himself.  
"Greg, take this shirt to the lab. Warrick, Ni-" Grissom ordered, but realized that Nick was no longer in the room.  
"Drive out to the scene, I'll call Brass to ask for a cross-jurisdiction investigation," Grissom barked.  
"Catherine, stay here with Greg, instead someone calls. Stay on standby; I might have to call you out to the scene." Catherine nodded, and knew better than to argue with the desperate and worried man opposite her.  
  
Nick was in the washroom; the sight of blood, and the image of Sara hurt was too much for him. He felt sick to his stomach.   
"Damn it," he screamed. Kicking in the washroom stall.  
"Sara, where are you?" He whispered. But quickly leaned over the toilet and threw up.  
"Are you ok?" A voice called out. Warrick's figure immerged from the door.  
"Yeah, I'm fine," Nick responded, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Rising, he wiped the wetness on his cheeks with his other hand.  
Warrick stood there, wanting to say something, but he knew that this was not the time.  
"We have to go," he finally said. "Grissom wants us out to the car," he continued.  
Nick nodded.  
  
Not a word was said, 15 minutes had passed, and the hustle and bustle of Las Vegas was left behind. Now, only the cars that passed made a noise.  
"What happened in Anaheim," Warrick finally questioned.  
Nick didn't respond, but just looked ahead. Determined, concentrated, deep in thought.  
"She hated the game," Nick finally responded.  
"But she watched it; she sat there, sipping her water. You knew she wasn't having any fun," he half-smiled. Tears building beneath his eyes.  
"And like Sara, she caused a scene," Nick continued. Tears were on their way.  
"A scene?" Warrick questioned, curiosity peaked.  
"Her friend Mark got them the tickets. And she ranted on about how much she hated the game," Nick scoffed. The dam had collapsed, tears slowly fell.  
"Oh God," Nick slammed his fist on the dashboard.  
"Why did I have to be such a jerk," he questioned himself.  
  
Warrick sat there, absorbing the story that Nick narrated. He could see the pain in Nick's eyes. He knew that Nick cared for Sara, but hadn't realized how much. Speechless, all he did was drive.  
The rest of the way, Nick stared into the distance, thinking deeply about Sara, the game, and practically the past couple of years. He looked on as he spotted a parked black Tahoe looming in the distance. He inhaled.  
The car was on the side of the road. It wasn't a wreck, it was just abandoned. Warrick and Nick stepped out of the car, both handling their kits.  
  
"Were you the officer who found the car?" Warrick questioned, as Nick quickly approached the driver's side of the Tahoe.  
"Yeah, I called it in as soon as I saw the LVPD sticker on the front windshield. That was about an hour ago. There was nobody in the jeep and the tank is still full," the officer explained. Adjusting his hat and taking off his Top Gun inspired sunglasses.  
"And nobody has touched this car since then?" Warrick continued to question.  
"Nobody, but I did touch the door," the man explained.  
"All right, thank you for doing your job," Warrick responded. As he turned and walked towards when Nick stood.  
  
"No blood," Nick called out.  
"Let's turn this truck inside-out," Warrick ordered.  
They searched the Tahoe, top to bottom, inch by inch.  
"Find anything?" Warrick questioned.  
"Just a couple of prints; I'll run them through the databases when we get back to lab," Nick replied.  
"Did Sara have her camera?" Warrick wondered.  
"I'm not sure; but her friend had one," Nick answered, accessing his short-term memory.  
"I'll bag it," Warrick exhaled.  
  
A phone rang, Warrick and Nick quickly took out their phones, but it wasn't theirs. Both CSIs looked at each other, then quickly rummaged through the seats.  
"Hello," Nick finally answered. The phone was wedged between the two backseats.  
"Hi Nicky," the voice replied. It was a woman's voice, it wasn't cold, it was warm, Southern.  
"Who is this," Nick questioned, waving Warrick to listen in.  
"Nicky, Nicky, Nicky, don't you remember me? After all those years with the Owls," she questioned.  
"No, no I don't," Nick responded.  
"Gee, I hope you didn't forget about Sara," she continued. Nick gasped, his chest tightened.  
"Sara?" Nick questioned. Upon those words, Warrick's eyes focused and listened intently to the woman's voice.  
"I'm not going to say anything. Not until you remember who I am," the woman laughed.  
"If you ever hurt Sara-" Nick screamed into the phone.  
"Nick! Help me-" a voice screamed.  
"Sara!" Nick cried out.  
"Wait for my next call. And you better remember who I am," said the voice. The line went dead.  
"Damn!" Nick screamed.  
  
"I'll call Brass and Grissom," Warrick responded.  
Nick sat on the curb, trying to recall his past. He was out of focus, his head hurt and it rambled. 'Sara, Sara, Sara.' He rubbed his hand against his face. 'Was this about me?' He questioned himself. 'The Owls?' His mind raced, struggling to focus on the conversation he just had. He could hear Warrick talking to Grissom and finally to Brass, they were probably on their way. But he didn't care, all he cared about was Sara's desperate and frighted voice.'This isn't happening.'  
  
He looked at Nick, watching him sit silently on the curb. He walked up to him slowly, and tapped Nick's shoulder. 'He was hit, bad' he thought. 'This is really eating him alive." He looked at his colleague's expression.  
"Grissom, Catherine, and Brass want us back to the lab, we just have to wait for the truck to take the Tahoe back to the lab," Warrick explained. But Nick didn't respond. He just sat there.  
  
A/N - I don't know if any of you like what I've done with the first couple of chapters, but if you do...please give me some feedback. Suggestions regarding what you want would be awesome as well. Should I focus more on a G/S or N/S (I personally like N/S pairing) but I'm open to any suggestions. Oh, just wanted to tell you to pay close attention to some facts about the story. (Hint, hint.)  
I hope y'all are enjoying it as much as I enjoy writing it. Again, love it or loathe it, just tell me. I'll be posting the next chapters when I get some feedback. Thanx for reading! 


	4. Revelations

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters; they are the property of the creators, producers of CSI. Please don't sue me, I'm just a student.  
  
"Find anything?" Grissom questioned.  
"Yeah, prints," Nick answered.  
"Can't forget the camera," Warrick added, entering the lab. He was soaking wet, it had just started pouring.  
"The truck is in the garage," Nick concluded, heading towards the locker room.  
"Grissom, I think you should send Nick home, he's exhausted," Warrick advised. Grissom looked at the young man.  
"Is he alright?" Grissom questioned.  
"Yeah, but I think he just needs some rest. I know that all of us do, but him more than any of us.  
Grissom stood there, pondering his next move.  
"Send him to my office when you see him," he finally said. Warrick nodded and followed Nick to the locker room.  
  
He pulled off his wet shirt, goose bumps on his back. It was cold. His muscles ached; it has been a long day. He was physically exhausted, but his mind raced, wondering where Sara was. 'Please let her be alright. She's been through so much; Hank (that jerk) she deserves better. His thoughts were interrupted by Warrick's voice.  
"Grissom wants you in his office."  
Nick only nodded, but wondered what could happen next.  
  
"Nicky, take the rest of the night off," Grissom ordered. He looked up at Nick.  
"But-"  
"You look tired; I think you should head home. Rest. Even for just a couple of hours," Grissom explained. He scanned through the file in front of him.  
"You can't do this, Sara's out there," Nick protested. 'My Sara," he said inside. 'Your Sara?' He questioned his words, words that had taken residence in his subconscious.  
Grissom didn't move, his eyes studying the pages of the file. "Go home Nick, I'll call you when I need you," Grissom called out behind the file.  
'But-' he silenced his mind. Nick was too tired, and worried to protest. 'Home it is.'  
  
He walked down the half-empty halls of the lab, passing Greg and Catherine on the way. They looked at him, his face as full of fury. He stormed out to the parking lot and unlocked the Tahoe. He hopped in and sat in the silent darkness.  
He sat for several moments, drops of water landing on the upholstery. The rain had gotten worse with the exploding sounds of thunder and lightning in the distance.  
Finally, he started the engine, and exited the parking garage. The drive home was painful, it was long and endless. Sara's house appeared several times, drawing him to it. Once, he had parked the Tahoe across the street, but not once did he get out of the truck. He only looked into the dark house, waiting for someone to turn on a light, hoping that maybe Sara was home. Even the glow of the TV would have satisfied his curiosity. But nothing happened.  
It was only several hours later that he finally reached his apartment. He exited his car, and walked up to his apartment. He opened the door and dropped his bag on the ground. His answering machine's light was flashing, '3 messages.' He scoffed.  
  
"Hi Nicky, it's mom. Please call me back, I have some news."  
"Hi Nick, where have you been? I had great watching the game, maybe you'd want to come over sometime," Traci's voice recorded.  
"Nick, it's Catherine, I know that you must be upset about Sara's disappearance, but stay strong. I'm gonna call you when we find anything. But get some sleep."   
  
He gripped the bottle of water, damn straight he was upset. Sara's gone. His head throbbed, 'maybe I do need to sleep," he thought.  
He sat in bed, a sheet over half his body, staring at the ceiling, his thoughts were running rampant, and his head didn't rest. 'My Sara?' He questioned the thoughts he had in Grissom's office.  
'My Sara? She wasn't mine. I mean, she's Sara, but she wasn't mine. She's kind and loving and giving to boot. Her smiles were always multi-dimensional and complex. Her quirks were pretty cute-'Nick blinked. 'Oh my God,' he breathed. He sat up,  
"I'm in love with Sara," he smiled at the idea. 'Was I really?'  
  
A/N-I'm really sorry about the repeated text, my copy and paste talents need to be tuned. I've re-posted that chapter, so if you got confused the first time, just read it over again (fingers crossed) I hope it worked. If you're still reading my little project, I hope that you're enjoying yourself. After reading some of the reviews, I know that some people have some questions. like:  
1-question: how come nick and traci were supposed to have dinner with sara and mark if they weren't on a double date?  
answer: lesson learned, i should have included that in the conversation in chapter 1. the dinner arrangement was just an aside. as in, it was suppose to be something that was arranged, but wasn't explored in the text. sorry for the mix up, but i'll try to be more careful. as for why are they having dinner if they're not on a double date, well, it's really not an official double date. if it was fully explored, it would have been a dinner on the fly, type thing.  
thanx for pointing out my mistakes, i really appreciate it. i hope that you continue reading, and reviewing. thank you sooo much!  
Note: if this is really moving to slow for people just tell me, and i'd add some fuel to the fire. speed it up a little bit. it's going a little slow because i just want to establish their emotions, and personalities first.  
  
but i have one question for some1 who reviewed. who do you think is the woman? (just wondering)   
- oceanwave 


	5. Alive

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters; they are the property of the creators, producers of CSI. Please don't sue me, I'm just a student.  
  
The light invaded the darkness; she struggled to open her eyes.   
'The pain, oh the pain!' her mind screamed.  
It was a dark cellar, cold and somewhat clean. In one corner, Sara slept on the futon, her face was colorless, her lips chapped, and her arms bruised. The IV drip silently traveled through the tub attached to her arm. It seemed like a hospital, but she knew that something was wrong.   
  
Her mind strained to focus, trying to remember what had happened. Her thoughts drew a black, although thoughts of panic and confusion did manage to gather in her head.  
'Nick?' She questioned silently. But the pain was too much, her eyes began to close. A figure immerged before her, it was a woman. She walked up to the IV adjusted the dosage.   
'NO,' Sara thought, but couldn't move, all her strength taken away.  
The darkness fully covered Sara's eyes; the light left, just as fast as it appeared.  
  
A/N-I know that this was a short chapter (if you can even all it that.) But I didn't want people to abandon the story. I hope this is enough to assure you that Sara is still ALIVE. She's going to come back, just keep reading. And keep the reviews, comments, suggestions coming. 


	6. Visiting the Past

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters; they are the property of the creators and producers of CSI. Please don't sue me! Anything about Sara's parents and past is fictional, and loosely based on her profile on the CSI website.  
Note: I also wrote up a part in here that took place right after Crash & Burn.  
  
The room was dark and somewhat cold, the blinds were closed. The neighbourhood was unusually quiet, but he didn't mind. It was only the cool temperature that crept up on him, that bothered him. His chest was chilly, the hair on the back of his neck awake as well.  
The phone rang endlessly. He didn't want to move, choosing instead to pull his bed sheets up to his chest, 'damn, it's cold," he shivered. The ringing continued, he groaned as he moved to pick up his phone.  
  
"Hello?" Nick answered, his mind still tried refocusing, his eyes half closed.  
"Nick, we need you here, Greg found something," Warrick said over the phone. Nick's head snapped up.  
"I'll be right there," Nick answered.  
  
The lights of the strip were bright; it reflected nicely over the black Tahoe that he drove through the street. Nick observed the crowds walked happily up and down the street. Couples cuddling as they walked down the street. He smiled, and blushed a little at his revelation earlier in the evening. As he drove further away from the lights of The Mirage, he looked at the bulletin across the street.  
*University Band Championships. Welcome Owls! Rice University Band - Current Champions. GO OWLS! *  
'Owls, owls,' Nick blinked twice, and stepped on the gas.  
  
"Grissom, Owls, she went to Rice with me," Nick explained, out of breath marching into the room. Sitting around were Catherine, Warrick and Greg.  
"What?"  
"When she called, I didn't know her name and she said, 'after all those years with the Owls. Meaning that she must have gone to Rice with me. Rice University Owls." he clarified.  
"Does this mean that you know who it is?" Greg questioned.  
"I have no clue how it is," Nick answered, holding his head between his hands.  
"Do you realize how many girls I talked to in college? The girls in class, the one's at the parties, games. I don't even know were to start."  
"Let's not start where too many options lie, we should focus on what we know and have," Grissom interrupted.  
"Greg, tell us what you found," Catherine asked.  
  
Greg took out the printout of results from a folder that sat on the edge of the table. He was uncomfortable; he attempted to suppress his emotions, but failed miserably.  
"The blood on the shirt is Sara's," he finally managed to spit out. The color on everyone's face had drained.  
"But... I did find a small amount of unidentified blood. I ran it through AFIS, but nothing came up," Greg continued, everyone's faces were still expressionless.  
  
Ring. Ring. The ringing phone had broken the room's silence. Everyone all looked at the evidence bag before them. Sara's phone.  
Nick jumped at the constant ringing, he looked at the phone, then at Grissom, who has definitely closer. Grissom motioned for Nick to pick up the phone, both Warrick and Catherine looked on, Greg too was feeling the tension in the room. The ringing continued.  
  
"Hello?" Nick finally answered.  
"Hi cowboy," the voice greeted.  
"Hi, you know who I am, but who are you?"  
"Nicky, how can you say that? We have a history together, the parties, the games. I'm sure you know by now that I went to Rice with you," she responded.  
"That I know. But what does this have to do with Sara?" Nick questioned, flipping through the scrapbook of parties and games he attended in university.  
"It has everything to do with Sara, I've seen you two. Those long glances, and subtle touches."  
"You've been watching me," Nick closed his eyes. 'Sara'  
  
The voice laughed.  
  
"I'll give you whatever you want, just give Sara back," Nick pleaded.  
"Why would I? I have your most cherished position," the woman's voice turned cold.  
"And with her out of the way, I'm sure that we could finally be together," she continued. Nick gulped, his mind drew a blank, he didn't know what to say.  
"Can I talk to her?" He asked. Grissom and the others were listening intently at what was transpiring. All ears glued to the phone. They too wondered how Sara was doing.  
"Wouldn't you just love that? You'll have to find her, but this is of course, if and before I get rid of her. Oh Nicky, after she's gone, we'll finally be together. You know you love me; you just don't know it yet."  
"Listen, how can you say you love me when you won't even tell me your name?" Nick finally answered.  
"I don't like your tone of voice; I think this phone call is over. Sara says hello-" the line went dead.  
  
"Whoa," Greg concluded. Everyone leaned back on their seats, all except for Nick, who still stood in the middle of the room. Everyone was utterly in shock, speechless and all afraid. Moments had passed before a man walked in with printout results. He handed the folder to Grissom, and Grissom scanned the file.  
"What do you know about Mark Wallis?" He finally questioned, snapping his fingers in front of Nick.  
"Mark? Um, he was at the game with Sara," he responded, studying Grissom's face.  
"His finger prints were all over the truck, and the camera," Grissom added.  
"Well, that's nothing unusual. They were both there to watch the game. And the camera was his," Nick quickly brushed the comment aside.  
"Anything else?" Grissom questioned.  
Everyone shook their heads.  
"Nick you're coming with me to San Francisco. Warrick, stay here. I want to know where that camera has been. Greg, good job," Grissom applauded the young lab tech.  
"Catherine, I want you to toss the Tahoe, I want it to light up," Grissom ordered.   
"Why don't I go book the tickets first," Catherine stated. Grissom nodded as she made her way towards his office to make a call.  
"I'll drive to the airport," Nick declared, half-way through the door.  
  
1.25 hours later  
"Ladies an gentlemen, we would ask that you please return to your seats. And please return your trays and seats to their upright position. We are only minutes way from landing in San Francisco. Thank you," The pilot's voice resonated in the cabin.  
Nick sat in the window seat, his eyes fatigued. Grissom was beside him, flipping through the pages of a magazine, not paying much attention to the magazine's content. He stared ahead, at the lights that lined the aisle. Both men were tired and hadn't had a good night's sleep since Sara's disappearance; a nap here and there was all that they could manage. This was just a horrible nightmare, and it was hard to accept that Sara was trapped.  
  
'Owls, owls, owls. Who are you?" Nick wondered silently. His thoughts were rapid, as he struggled to maintain his poise. Last evening's revelations were safely tucked away in the back of his mind. 'You'll get a chance to tell her,' he thought positively.  
  
'Why is this happening?" Grissom asked himself, as he madly flipped through a magazine. 'What am I going to say to her parents?'  
  
*Sunrise Bed and Breakfast* - the sign read.  
Both men entered the cozy home, being greeted by a couple in their late 50s.  
"Hi, I'm Gil Grissom and this is Nick Stokes, we work with the LVPD."  
"Grissom, the sounds familiar," the woman answered.  
"We work with your daughter, Sara," Nick answered. Extending a hand to both the woman and the man behind her.  
"Of course, Gil Grissom, you used to work here," the man responded, suddenly recalling.  
"Yes, Mr. Sidle." Grissom smiled.  
"Please, sit down, I'll go make some coffee," Mrs. Sidle encouraged.  
Grissom sat down on the couch and continued with the small talk. Meanwhile, Nick had excused himself to go to the washroom, but on his way, he observed his surroundings. The hall was lined with pictures, trophies, awards, while family pictures appeared around the home.  
  
"She was one smart cookie."   
Nick jumped, as he turned to find Mrs. Sidle standing behind him.  
"Yeah," Nick half-smiled, as he looked into Mrs. Sidle eyes. 'I miss Sara,' he concluded. Her eyes reflected that of Sara's, only lighter, Sara's were more intense, deep and full of wonder and complexity.  
"How long have you known Sara?" The short woman answered, ushering him to the kitchen.  
"About three years, Nick smiled. Looking curiously at the intense fusion of fuchsia and lavender tones that colored kitchen.  
"How is she?" the woman quizzed.  
Nick gulped. How can he tell her what has happened, or what is still unknown?  
"Honey, we need some sugar," Mr. Sidle requested politely, as he entered the kitchen.  
"I'll get it," she answered.  
'Phew' Nick thought.  
  
"Mr. Sidle, Mrs. Sidle. I'm afraid we aren't quite the bringers of good news," Grissom began.  
The couple's happy expression had dulled, anticipating his next few words. Nick was standing by the fireplace, biting his nails - a habit that occasionally crept up on him.  
"Is Sara alright?" Mrs. Sidle's voice was almost a whisper.  
"There's no easy to tell you this, but…we're here to tell you that Sara has...disappeared," Grissom continued. You could hear the sobs work their way up and out into the room. Mrs. Sidle held on to her husband for support, and he did the same.  
"What happened? Is she ok?" The father questioned, picturing his daughter's life in danger.  
"We are currently gathering evidence, but we wanted to come here and ask you a few questions, just to help lead, and eliminate some possibilities," Grissom explained, looking deep into the eyes of Sara's parents. He sympathized with them, and it pained him to witness the pain in their hearts. Nick looked on, feeling the pangs of pain himself, images of Sara in pain played through his head; his knees weakened, but he held on to the fireplace mantle.  
  
A few moments had passed, and Sara's mother was hysterical. Her father, trying hard not to break down and cry himself, trying to be the foundation and support of his wife.  
"What can we do, we don't know anything about Sara's activity in the past years," Mr. Sidle explained.  
"After leaving to go to Harvard, she never really stayed in touch. A post card, some greeting cards, but that was it," he continued.  
"Actually, we were wondering if you could tell us about her childhood friends," Nick broke in.  
"Sara didn't have much friends growing up, she always liked studying. Never really going outside to play with the other kids. She enjoyed playing in her room," Mrs. Sidle managed to say, between the sobs and hiccups.  
"Does the name Mark Wallis ring a bell?" Grissom wondered.  
"Mark? Yeah, he was a friend of Sara's... I guess. But, I think she was better friends with Mark's brother, David. Sara went to the prom with David," Mr. Sidle continued.  
"I remember when Sara came home one day from school. She was in a huff. She said that Mark Wallis had kissed her on the playground," Sara's mother, commented, with a half-smile.  
Nick smiled, his thoughts drifted towards Sara, he just imagined how cute Sara was when she was upset.  
  
- Flashback -  
"Hey buddy, give me another one," Sara slurred. The bartender refused to give her another drink, and she tried her best to give him a good, long stare. Only to realize that she wasn't even giving the bartender cut-eye, but was just looking at a stranger sitting beside her.  
"Beer," drawled the man who approached the heavily intoxicated Sara.  
"How many drinks has she had?" He questioned the bartender.   
"She mixed it up a little. A couple of beers, and she snuck in a couple shots of vodka too," the bartender motioned, as he looked at Sara.   
Her head rested on the edge of the bar, almost asleep. He smiled, 'she's out of it." He brushed the strands of hair that littered her red face. 'She's the most beautiful drunk I have ever seen,' he managed to comment to himself.  
"Sara? It's Nick, I'm here to take you home," Nick whispered in her ear.  
"Nick?" Sara scoffed.  
"Nick doesn't know where I am," she answered waving her finger in the air.  
"Come on Sara it's time to go," Nick said. He gently grabbed her arm, but she didn't move.  
"Sara, don't make this difficult," Nick ordered, trying frantically to maneuver his way to move Sara, finally deciding on carrying her to his car.  
"Thanks for calling me Raul," Nick waved to the bartender.  
"No, problem.  
"Bye Raul," Sara managed to wave, her words still slurred.  
  
Once in the car, Sara was just too drunk and tired to argue with Nick.   
  
Nick was curious as to why she was even in that part of town; he had almost drifted to sleep when he received a call from the bartender - a friend of his. The man had asked to take Sara home, having seen her drink with Nick, Warrick and Catherine on several occasions.   
  
It wasn't his place to question Sara's reasoning, but he drove her, he's ears were open, if she wanted to talk. The drive wasn't too difficult, the roads were practically clear, and Sara hadn't moved since they left the bar. As pull up onto Sara's driveway, he looked at her. Tears were streaming down her rosy red cheeks.  
"Sara." Sara didn't move, Nick unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to face her.  
"What happened?"  
She turned, "Hank and I broke up." As she commenced on sobbing.  
'I'll kill him,' Nick's inner voice screamed. 'Say something,' it continued.  
"I'm here," Nick answered enthusiastically. 'What the hell was that?" His mind questioned.  
Whatever it was, it made Sara smile. As she fumbled with the seatbelt.  
"Thanks for the ride," she uttered, opening the door, but she slipped.  
"Sara," Nick called out, concerned. He jumped out of his and out of the driver's side to help Sara off the ground.  
He inspected her eyes, 'they were beautiful' he thought to himself. She laughed as he lifted her on her feet; together they slowly walked to her front porch. Sara scrabbled to find her keys, but Nick used the spare key in the mailbox.  
Once inside, he maneuvered his hand to fix the bed sheets.  
"You know what I like about you Nick Stokes?" Sara garbled.   
"You're dependable," she smiled, as her head tipped over and landed on Nick's shoulder. All Nick could do was smile as he gently placed her on her bed.  
  
The next day as a challenge, Sara stormed into the lab, with a hangover no less. She sped past Nick, not acknowledging his presence. She was upset, her face red and eyes sharp, he wasn't quite sure what had happened, but he let it slip. It was only a couple nights later did he realize his mistake.   
  
After several drinks, Sara opened up to him, yet again.  
She laughed," I still can't believe that you're here," she finally said.  
"Of course I'd still be here, don't think for a second that I'd let you drink alone," Nick smiled.  
"I can't believe you're still here; I've been such a runt for the last couple of days," she continued.  
"I'm still kicking myself. I'm so embarrassed," she blushed, although somewhat unnoticeable under the pink color of her cheeks.  
"Don't be embarrassed. You have nothing to be embarrassed about," Nick commented, taking another sip of beer.  
"Oh, I do. I'm mad that I burdened you with my problems," Sara managed to say, after taking a long shot of vodka.  
"Burden? Since when have you been a burden?" Nick teased.  
"Pile it on me," He smiled.  
  
- Present -  
"Nick?" It was Grissom, it had started raining. Nick cleared his throat.  
"Yeah," he squeaked.  
"Your phone's ringing," Grissom said, indicating at the phone on Nick's belt.  
"Stokes," he answered. Sara's parents were still recovering from the sad news. He looked over at them, listening closely to the voice on the line. It was Catherine.   
  
They found something.  
The pictures taken by the camera were all of Sara. The camera was used to watch her; there were pictures of her house, from behind the bushes. Long lenses were used to take these, only a pro. Nick's breathing intensified. 'That bastard,' he sighed.  
  
"Mrs. Sidle, can you tell us about Mark?" Nick finally questioned, ending his brief conversation with Catherine. Grissom glared at Nick, but realized the determination in the young CSIs eyes. He stared, but began to understand. His attention then turned to the distraught parents before them.  
"Does Mark know where Sara is?" Mr. Sidle acknowledged.  
"We just want to know some details about Sara's past," Grissom interrupted.  
"I guess you can say that Mark's a good kid. He went to high school; he works for a radio station. Um, I can't quite remember what he did though," Mr. Sidle responded  
"How was his relationship with Sara?" Nick asked.  
"Well, in high school, they didn't really hang out. Sara was always with David."  
"Wait, David? As in Mark's brother?" Grissom probed.  
"Yeah, David was a good kid, a lot of promise. Too bad for the accident," Mr. Sidle's head shook. 'Accident?' Nick asked himself.   
But before he could speak, Mrs. Sidle offered an answer.  
"David and Mark were avid surfers; before going off to college, they went to surf in Hawaii's North Shore."  
"David caught a violent wave, hit his head and drowned. His body was found later that day by the locals," Mr. Sidle explained.  
  
The minutes that followed were eventful, as it turned out; the accident was never fully investigated. After hearing of the news, Sara decided to pull away, that's when she decided to leave San Francisco and head east. Away from home, Sara turned into the workaholic and emotionally withdrawn person everybody knew. She disassociated herself from the world, her parents and her friends. Upon returning to the west coast, she reunited with Mark.  
  
"It was strange, come to think of it; Sara never really paid any attention to Mark. But Mark, he was always around, always there," Sara's father concluded.  
  
Nick and Grissom sat uncomfortably in their chairs. Sara's mother had calmed down, it looked like the storytelling has somewhat calmed her stew of emotions.   
Grissom could feel the anger that raged in Nick. His own emotions running high, but he masked it perfectly, expressing little, or rather, no emotion.  
Nick's heart pounded, anger burned in his eyes.  
  
"Thank you for your time. You have been a great help," Grissom said, breaking the silence that had snuck up on the group.  
"Please find Sara," Mr. Sidle asked. His emotions masked as well, but Grissom knew. The fear and panic that overcame the older man before him, the emotions that only a father could bare for his baby daughter.  
"We will," Grissom sympathized, as both he and Nick began walking towards the door. Grissom exited first, he waved from the bottom of the front steps, Nick followed.  
"When you find her, hold on to her," Sara's mother smiled, gently seizing Nick's arm.  
Surprised, Nick, looked down, overflowing with emotion.  
"I will," he nodded as he slowly made his way to the rental.  
  
Inside, he looked at Grissom; both men knew what was next. Grissom took out his phone and dialed Warrick's number.  
  
"Get me everything on Mark Wallis," he ordered.   
  
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A/N - I love the reviews, all the creative criticism. I know that a lot of people are looking for the Sara POV, but I think that for the sake of having a more interesting/dramatic/emotionally driven scene to tie in all the plots, I've chosen to keep her POV minimal. So if you really want to know what Sara's thinking, just bare with me and I'll post more chapters soon.  
Plus, I know that the brief convo between Nick and Sara's mom in the end is little cliché, but what can you do, I'm over dramatic, and besides, this is a story, why not have fun with it? If you were entertained or were not amused... or if you're just getting tired of reading this... please click on the blue button below and review. :D   
To nena: um i totally agree that i need to be more descriptive with the scenes... but my head captures words rather than picture descriptions. i'm sorry that i couldn't describe any of the surroundings in this chapter, but i'll try to incorporate that into the next chapters (yes, i did say chapters) lol.   
this was getting too long, so i couldn't really add it in. i hope that you don't stop reading, or stop reviewing... cuz i am officially addicted to reviews!  
Thanks to all who have reviewed and have given me a ton of suggestions, thank you for even reading. - oceanwave 


	7. Gotcha

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters; they are the property of the creators and producers of CSI. The only thing I own are Mark and Davis Wallis, Traci (last name undisclosed) and a broken down CD-player...please don't sue me!  
  
The place was in chaos, unusual for that time of day. The graveyard shift was mostly dead - on a normal day, dead like those they investigated. The phones were ringing and people passed through-folders, cell phones, pagers in hand. They had just received orders from Grissom; 'find everything about Mark Wallis.'  
  
Warrick sat, dazed by the glow of the computer screen, he had been reading pages upon pages on Mark Wallis' past - or what they had on file anyway.  
  
Catherine called newspaper publishers, even the Hawaii press archives. She scanned through faxed news clippings on the accident that killed Mark's brother, David.  
'Unusual,' she sighed, getting up from her seat to find Warrick.  
  
Greg was in the lab, he hadn't slept for days, but nobody knew. His mind was solely focused on Sara; and the many questions that floated in his mind. He couldn't quite decide whether he was worried about not hearing from Sara, but was relieved to know that they were tracking down a lead. His last several days were spent trying to find something on the bloody they had received, trying to find an alternate way of seeing what the evidence said. He was definitely on the edge.  
  
At 5:00 in the afternoon, all sat around the layout room, all with worried faces, caffeine filled bodies and hopes that they had enough background info on Mark Wallis. The chaos in the office had died down temporarily, knowing that an important call was imminent. The clock ticked, each tick pounded into their heads, waiting in silence for Grissom's call; staring at the phone system that had been set up in the middle of the table. Their palms were sweaty, their throats dry, and their eyes focused. The phone rang, making Catherine and Greg jump, Warrick sat up.  
  
"Willows," Catherine answered, pressing the red button on the phone to activate the speakerphone. Grissom's voice came through and filled the room.  
  
"What do you have for me?" He questioned, the slightest tone of desperation in his voice. Warrick responded first.  
  
"Mark Wallis, graduated from Tamales Bay High in 1989. He attended Tufts University the following year, with a major in Communications and Media Studies. He stayed in Massachusetts for about 4 years before returning to the San Francisco Bay area. He currently works for KBPL Bay Radio as a Radio Promoter. He also owns come down to Vegas once in a while, he leases the company pad here in Vegas almost once a month."  
  
He stared at the phone in front of him, knowing that on the other line were Grissom, with Nick listening in.   
"No priors or tickets. This guy lives in the shadows, Boy Scout. The poster child for how parents should raise their children," Warrick concluded. Disappointment was in his voice, knowing that he pretty much didn't find anything that would help the case.  
  
"Warrick, that was brilliant," Grissom praised. Warrick snapped his head forward, 'what did I do?' He thought, then looked over the notes he had presented.  
  
"Oh my god," he gasped.  
  
"He's been following Sara," he finally said, looking around at Catherine and Greg. He rubbed his temples, 'this guy is sick' he concluded in his mind.  
  
"Then if he was following Sara, that would go hand-in-hand with what you found in the camera, those long-lens shots of Sara's house," Greg included, sounding interested by the development. But his face bore the expression of absolute disgust.  
  
Catherine sat in her seat, the upholstery was more annoying today, that it was every other day, she struggled to get comfortable. She slowly took in information, as well as preparing her own comments. Her thoughts went towards the pictures she and Warrick uncovered.  
  
The photos were of Sara's house, nothing unusual at first, but when they discovered that they were taken behind a bush, across the street, they knew something was off. There were long-lens photos of Sara in the house, in her car and even walking towards the lab, a crime scene and even just out to a bar with Catherine, and later Nick.  
'That sick duck,' Catherine thought to herself.  
  
"Catherine, did you find anything in the car?" Grissom questioned, bringing Catherine back to the room.  
  
"I didn't really find anything in the car. No sign of struggle, nothing out of the ordinary, except for that camera. I'll check over it again a little later." Catherine responded, gathering all her notes in front of her.  
  
"But," she continued.  
  
"After reading up on the accidental death papers filed after David Wallis' death, I did come up with something. The brothers took the surfing trip to Hawaii before Mark went off to college. They joined the locals in the morning and surfed the North Shore, at that time, the waves were considered to be for experiences surfers only. His cause of death was a good bashing on his head. Nothing unusual, but, after looking over the pictures from the coroner's, the wounds on his head aren't consistent with wounds that usually result in a wipeout. It was ruled as an accidental death because he was found on the shore later in the day when the surfers got out of the water," she concluded.  
  
You could hear the heavy sigh over the line, the room's tension was building. The lights flickered, all their hearts pounded as they waited anxiously for Grissom's orders.  
  
"Murder," Grissom sighed.  
"Warrick, call Brass, get a search warrant for the corporate pad that Mark has been renting," Grissom finally said. Warrick nodded in agreement and began gathering his notes.  
  
"Catherine, I want you to find evidence supporting your theory," Grissom continued.  
  
"Greg, try not to break anything in the lab," Greg looked up at the mention of his name, slightly hurt, but he didn't care.  
  
"Did anybody find anything about a woman? How is she involved in this? And any links to Nick?" Grissom quizzed. He was puzzled by the events that were unfolding, 'if Mark was the kidnapper, then how did the woman play into this?'  
  
Warrick was the first to answer.  
"We don't know yet, but I have some people working on Sara's cell phone records."  
  
The mention of Nick made Catherine remember the pain she had witnessed in Nick's life since Sara's disappearance, she spoke up. Her voice tried to sound stable, despite the events that have occurred. She bravely tried to mask the inner conflicts of her emotions.  
  
"Tell Nick that everything is under control," she said, trying to sound reassuring.  
  
"I will," Grissom answered. Turning his head towards Nick, who sat in the seat beside him, looking intently on the conversation that Grissom was having with the team. He could feel the emotion in Catherine's words, he was concerned for the team. The voices that he had listen to were dulled, drained of any upbeat emotion, only worry and anxiety. He quickly realized that he was still on the phone, and that there was still a lot to do.  
  
"And before you head off, can somebody fax me Mark Wallis' address?" Grissom requested.  
  
"Good job, just keep doing what you're doing, and the something or someone will speak to us," Grissom mentioned.  
  
"I'll call you for a conference meeting in 5 hours," Grissom continued, proceeding to hang-up his phone, but stopped at the voice of the young lab tech on the other line.  
  
"Oh, Grissom, can you tell Nick that this place isn't his personal call service. Tell him that Traci has been calling, constantly." Greg called out.  
  
"I'll tell him. Bye," Grissom ended.  
  
"Bye," the team called out.  
  
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A/N - The reviews have been awesome. I know that there are a lot of unanswered questions in a lot of readers' minds right now, but at least you have questions. Questions lead to answers, and I will be answering the mysteries behind each element of the story. If you do read something, and go 'huh?' Then please, just review and tell me ask me. I know that sometimes I'm really not that articulate with my ideas, but I will try to clarify things with you, if needed. As for now, the questions that you have about the plot (i.e. the identity of the mystery woman) will shortly be revealed... I'm just building momentum. Well, read, review, bite my head off…but I can't wait to get some feedback.  
Thank you for reading, and I hope you still like it. I'll try to update this as much as I can, but I can't promise to update daily... I do have school to worry about. Keep reading, and keep the feedback coming. - oceanwave :) 


	8. Sara

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters; they are the property of the creators and producers of CSI. The only thing I own are Mark and Davis Wallis, Traci (last name undisclosed) and a broken down CD-player...please don't sue me!  
  
The mixed aroma of mothballs, artificial pine air freshener, along with the stagnant stench of dried blood filled the air.  
The bring light of the sun filtered through a small gap in the blinds; it was painful against the newly opened eye.  
Her mouth was dry; only the taste of blood lingered on her lips, as she licked her dry, chapped lips.  
The room was cold and dark, each corner having its own secret, its own horror. She slept in a cot, on one side, but could not see any other items in the room. It was a cellar, a basement, a very dark basement.  
  
Sara shifted, but quickly feeling a sharp, sore pain on her side. A tear fell; it flowed slowly down her dirty cheek. You could here the pain, the confusion, the fear in her sigh. The visions and hope of seeing beyond the darkness in her eyes, in the tears that flowed.  
  
The floor above creaked, two people were talking. A woman and a man. The heels of the woman clicked as she paced above. The man's voice rising, she could barely make out the voices. Both voices sounded familiar. Soon, pangs of pain hit her head. She continued to listen closely, but struggled to understand their conversation.   
The door opened slowly, and she looked towards the light that had made its way down the stairs. She closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep, but left a slit for her eyes to cautiously watch her captor.  
  
The man walked down the noisy stairs, each squeak accompanied each pounding of her heart. Moved closer, and closer, her face remained emotionless, struggling not to make any movement. As the tall man came forward, his face surfaced, feature by feature. Her heart raced, 'how can this be?' She wondered, she wanted to scream, but knew that her voice could potentially initiate violence. Violence towards her body that she did not want.  
He spoke, sitting beside her, taking her hand in his and gently blushing his thumb over her bruised hand. 'Don't touch me,' she screamed inside.  
  
"Sara, beautiful, even in your sleep," he began.  
"Your peaceful eyes rested and your mouth perfect. A heart so warm and loving. You were always my girl. Mine. We have gone through many obstacles, from our naive youth to our current lives. Why couldn't you see my love, my light for you? But that's ok," he smiled.  
"I took care of David, he's gone to a place he deserved," he continued. Sara wondered, 'David? Oh my god, no.' Her heart sank, putting together a series of emotions; she was overwhelmed by the news, wanting to scream and cry. She continued to keep her eyes closed.  
"And now, our new challenge, I'll take care of him soon, just for you - for us. Nick is going to go away, he's going to take another path," he whispered into her ear. His warm breath tickling Sara's ear. At that moment, the woman called, she walked several steps down to the basement, but stopped. She requested that he join her upstairs. He glared at her, but quickly returned his eyes to Sara's semi-closed eyes; he kissed her forehead and walked up the stairs, closing the door behind them.  
  
'Nick!' she screamed inside. Her emotions ran high, she pondered at what she could do. She wept in the darkness, and thought back to her life, the rebuilding that it was currently experiencing. She remembered the night after breaking up with Hank, a night that she couldn't quite remember but figured out to be a turning point in her life. After drinks with Catherine, she returned home, but only to feel the pull of her aching heart gravitate towards alcohol. After several drinks, she could not remember anything, but could remember Nick. His genuine way of reaching out to people, caring, touching their hearts; and touching her own heart. The night, she found herself learning from him, learning from his kindness and love, and after years of working with him, she had only discovered his "true self" and loved him for it.  
She wondered where he was, if he was alright. Her own concern for herself subsiding, only preoccupied by the danger he is in and his well-being.  
The thinking made her head hurt even more; but was soon ceased by the sound of a gun going off. She blinked as she heard a thud; and breathing became hard, feeling her inner body stop.  
  
San Francisco. Inside a rental car.  
  
'Sara where are you?' Nick questioned in his head.  
His eyes had grown tired, his face long and his laugh lines retiring into his face, he hadn't laughed in days. Coffee cups littered the front seat with the smell of greasy Chinese food trapped inside that rental. Grissom talked on the phone; having a conference with the team, learning of the evidence that they had gathered.  
Nick's eyes stared ahead, focusing on finding evidence, eager to find Mark Wallis, to find answers to the questions he's had. He felt vulnerable, so vulnerable that pain took over him. Heart aching, he wondered when and if he was ever going to see her again.   
Mentally kicking himself for all the times he wanted to tell Sara, and imagined all the chances he had missed.   
He quickly looked over at Grissom, wishing that the team had something, a lead that could bring him closer to Sara. He wished, he prayed, he hoped.  
"Hold on Sara," he whispered.  
  
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A/N - this was just a little sara pov update. and a little cheesy, but what can u do... drama? love? perfect combination. and after reading over the reviews, i'm really happy to hear that people are enjoying my project. i also appreciate the suggestions and corrections from people. i've fixed the inconsistency in chapter 6 into what i really want the reader to know. i hope that everyone is happy with the sara pov. i hope this sort paints on the blank canvas of mystery about sara's disappearance. again, love it, loathe it, review it! please review. i'm really addicted. 


	9. Gone

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters; they are the property of the creators and producers of CSI. I only borrowed them.  
  
NOTE: David Wallis is NOT the David, the coroner's assistant. They are two different people. David Wallis is an imaginary character/name that was thought up by my half-sane mind. Anyway, read and review, I just wanted to clear things up a little.  
  
The rental car sped through the busy streets of San Francisco, passing busy vendors, pedestrians, and cars flowing to and from the suburbs. Both men sat in the rental, both had just left their hotel rooms, and upon receiving a fax from their office, they were now on their way to Mark Wallis' house.   
The stench of asphalt was lurking in the air, construction was definitely holding up the line of cars. Nick sighed; frustration was clear in his body language and facial expression.   
Grissom witnessed the frustration and the determination in the young man's expression. Many knew of Nick's feelings towards Sara, be it friendship or love, there was something there. Many times had he spent talking to Catherine about the two young CSI's "relationship over breakfast. But it was only at this time did he realize the extent of Nick's feelings.  
  
"Oh for the love of-" Nick yelled. Minutes passed, and they had only moved a block. After passing the construction, they frantically sped towards their destination, in Nick's opinion; no construction could deter them from interviewing Mark Wallis.  
  
'Finally,' Nick thought. They had arrived at the bungalow that they assumed was Mark Wallis' home. It was a small, 1960s style home, with a small garden and bird feeder on the front lawn. Upon reaching the top of the wooden porch, Grissom reached over to ring the doorbell, but stopped when he spotted a woman approach behind the door.  
  
"Can I help you?" She questioned, peeking through the eyehole.  
"Is this Mark Wallis' place of residence?" Grissom questioned, double-checking the faxed sheet in his hand.  
"Yes. Mark is not here, I'm his cousin," the woman replied. She didn't invite them in, or even open the door.  
"My name is Gil Grissom, and this is Nick Stokes. We're from the Las Vegas Crime Lab," he explained.  
"Vegas? Aren't you a little out of your jurisdiction?" The woman questioned.  
"We're investigating the disappearance of this woman," Grissom said, flashing a picture of Sara.  
"Sara," the woman said, as she slowly opened the door.  
"I'm sorry, do you know Sara?" Nick quizzed eagerly.  
"Please come in," the woman questioned, motioning the two men into the house.  
  
But what greeted the two men astonished them. It was as if they had entered an alternate universe, the past, with Sara as the focus. They marveled at the amount of high school memorabilia that Mark kept, all of which were actually David Wallis' things. As they inspected the room, they found many things that were David's, all personalized or engraved, but none with Mark's name or what appeared to be his.   
"What happened?" The woman questioned, sitting her small body into the armchair. Grissom sat across from her, and he began telling her about what has happened. Her emotions were blank, her breathing was calm, but Grissom could tell that fear and concern were under the entire mask.  
  
Nick continued to prowl around the room. He was amazed, disgusted, but amazed. He has especially taken interest in a prom picture of David and Sara. His emotions were bittersweet, enlightened by the sight of Sara, by the smile that radiated and captured the picture. But was also afraid of what could happen, what she was going through.  
  
"As you can see, Mark isn't exactly one to let things go," the cousin explained, as she looked around the room.  
"Sara is Mark's life. After David's death, he became close friends with Sara, and he hoped for something more, but she had closed herself from the world," she continued.  
"I don't' know where Mark is. He's usually traveling between here and Vegas, he's a radio promoter."  
"You should check his place in Vegas," she stated.  
  
Grissom was worried, his mind raced at the extent of Mark's obsession. 'It's definitely an obsession,' he thought. He carefully observed the young woman's face. Light wrinkles around her face; she stared at the man before her, but quickly looked away towards Nick's direction.  
"She was divested when David died," she finally said. Nick looked up, knowing that the woman was addressing him. He simply smiled.  
"She was never quite the same after that. She moved away, and tried to escape her past."  
  
Nick's heart sank and he swallowed hard. He never really knew the story of Sara, and now he was eager yet brimming with fear to learn about Sara. But most of all, he regretted not knowing about her, feeling helpless in finding her. The room's silence and emotion was too much for him, he excused himself and rushed out the door.  
  
"Thank you for your time. Here's my card, we'll keep in touch," Grissom said, surprised by Nick's sudden exit. The man followed Nick out the door, concerned for the young man. He somewhat understood the overlaying emotion of Nick; he knew that learning about Sara's past, and not knowing where Sara was, just ate at him. He wondered whether Nick could hold on.  
  
"Warrick?" Nick questioned into his cell phone. He had just left Grissom and Mark Wallis' cousin inside the house. He walked out into the empty street.   
  
It was Warrick; he was at Mark Wallis' corporate house outside Vegas.  
"He's gone," he began.  
"Gone?" Nick questioned. He ran towards the rental, the rain falling heavily on his head. 'How can this be' he questioned himself.  
"He's not here. Nick I think you should sit down," Warrick requested. Nick's heart stopped, his brisk walk to the rental halted.  
"Traci's dead," Warrick said, after a long pause.  
"Damn, that sick-" Nick screamed, struggling to wrap his mind around the revelation. He continued to vocalize profanities, with his heart tightening and breathing shallow. 'Traci, how could he do this to Traci?' Nick asked himself. He was kneeling on the ground, fraught with a cluster of emotions, tears ready to fall.  
"Sara?" He questioned, with his heart shortly stalled. 'Let her be alright' he commented to himself, hoping that she was at the location.  
"No man, she's not here. We're going to start processing the scene now," Warrick said. Those words were somewhat of a relief for Nick, hoping that they would find something. But he suffered, still trying to wrap his emotions around the devastating developments.   
  
The rain was falling heavily; thunder and lightning raging in the distance.  
  
*---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*  
A/N – there isn't much development, but i'll try to post the next chapter soon. i haven't had enough time to update, but i'm going to try and get things posted as fast as i can. again, thanks for the reviews, please keep them coming. 


	10. Vision

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters; they are the property of the creators and producers of CSI.  
  
"Female, 5'7", 32-years-old. Great physical health with a slight back problem," Dr. Robbins explained.  
The body of Traci Daniels, a single bullet wound to her right clavicle, shattering the bone upon impact. The body was cold, but it didn't show any signs of a struggle; no bruises or cuts.  
"Find anything else?" Catherine questioned.  
"She has a beautiful tattoo just above her right gluteus maximus," Dr. Robbins indicated, as he rotated the body to show Catherine.  
"Any idea what it is?" Catherine questioned as she stared the pattern on the victim's back.  
"I haven't got a clue. But I took a picture and I'll be sure to include it in my report," The coroner concluded, snapping off the latex gloves from his hands.  
"Alright, I'll be back to look over the autopsy reports," she concluded, walking out of the cold, and faintly lit room.  
  
On the scene. Residence of Mark Wallis. Las Vegas.  
The house was modest; it had the markings of a corporate apartment. The furniture was not new, but was in good condition, the kitchen cabinets where painted an off-white, while the linoleum floors clean. Everything in the room was clean, except for the subtle smell of cigarette smoke that fluttered the air.   
  
The basement, on the other hand was a mess.  
  
Warrick was shocked, a puddle of blood gathered at the bottom of the stairs. The room was cold and silent, the darkness in every corner. A bed was to one side, still relatively warm. As he collected blood samples from the puddle of blood, he cursed himself for not arriving earlier. Knowing that if he had, then this would have been over. He walked around the room, scanning and paying close attention to details, it was only after smelling the overwhelming scent of mothballs did he move to oven the window.  
  
An hour later, Catherine joined Warrick as she briefed him on Traci Daniel's autopsy. Both surveyed the upstairs levels, seeing as they found nothing substantial in the basement. Warrick was in the kitchen, while Catherine searched the bathroom.  
  
Catherine looked in the tub, the sink, and finally the medicine cabinet. 'Always an interesting place to look,' she thought. Inside, she found copious amounts of medication; not just your aspirin or anti-nausea pills, but mainly antidepressants and sleeping pills as well.  
"Catherine," Warrick called, standing by the door. Catherine turned and looked up at the tall, sturdy man before her.  
"Yeah?"  
"Did you see a black truck outside?" He questioned.  
"Cause there's tons of service receipts for a truck in the kitchen," he continued waving a piece of paper.  
"Services for what?" Catherine questioned, slowly getting up.  
"According to this," he paused.  
"A built-in hunting trunk," he stated concerned.  
  
"I'll check the garage," she said urgently running past him.  
  
~*~  
  
San Francisco International Airport  
San Francisco, CA  
  
The sun began to set as the plane prepared for lift off; Nick and Grissom sat uncomfortably in their seats. The pilot's voice invaded the silence in the cabin, the safety videos came on, and finally they were off to Las Vegas.  
  
It was only hours ago that Nick and Grissom received a call from Warrick, urging them to return home. It had been a long day for everyone, but with new evidence surfacing, they felt that Grissom and Nick were needed in Vegas.  
  
Nick's condition was worsening, his appetite had escaped him, and his eyes told the tale of sleepless nights and nightmares. Grissom's calm expression was haunting, his eyes never divulging any emotions but instead he buried himself in the faxed files he received from Catherine.  
  
Nick sat in his seat, pillow, and blanket in hand. He was tired, but he couldn't think of sleep. The events that have unfolded over the course of the week was overwhelming, Sara, and now Traci. Traci wasn't really Nick's girlfriend, she was just a friend. They had met in a bar one night, Nick had his day off, and well, Traci was a regular. Both chatted, and soon, they had set up a time and place to "date." In fact, he really didn't know much about Traci, only that she was from Texas, that she worked for a radio station in Vegas and that she was just a good listener. Nick was somewhat attracted to the way that Traci knew and restored everything he said, as if reading him. It amazed Nick; it temporarily filled the void of his lack of a relationship with Sara.   
  
He always felt comfortable around Sara, but was somewhat uneasy in her presence. She was overbearingly clever and anti-social, but he always liked being around her. It was to his surprise that he learned of his feelings for Sara. In fact, it was to him, the epitome of how opposites attract. Traci however, was the friend, a confidant. Her death devastated him, 'she's dead because of me,' he thought. He hated himself for what's happened.  
  
'Oh god,' he gasped. 'What's happening?' He questioned himself, it was apparent that his life was crumbling, and he was helpless as to prevent it. He looked glumly into the softened image of the sun, thinking, just letting his mind free.   
  
~*~  
  
Somewhere.  
'Oh god, where am I' Sara questioned herself.  
She had finally awoken. Feeling the sharp sting on her side. She struggled to shift positions, knowing that she was going to see a large wound on her side.  
  
She was moving, she could feel it.  
  
The heat was horrible, it was unbearable, she was suffocating. Her muscles ached and her wound was just a nightmare. Her head throbbed, but felt some relief when she heard voices conversing outside. She listened intently, it seemed like there were at a checkpoint. Her brain screamed for her to do something, but the dryness of her mouth and the gag had proved a difficult adversary. Instead, she commenced on trying to make any type of noise. She kicked the panel below her feet, she squirmed and punched the around the small container.  
  
On the outside, the men talked.  
  
"What's the problem officer?" Mark questioned.  
"Just standard check point, can you please step out of your-" the officer requested authoritatively. But he was stopped by the faint sound coming from the hunting box in the back. He glanced at the back, but saw nobody. Quickly, he moved his hand close to his gun holster.   
  
"Sir, I would like you carefully turn off your engine, and slowly put your hands up in the air," the officer demanded calmly.  
]Mark cooperated, slowly, he slowly motioned to turn the engine off. The officer was relieved at the man's cooperation  
"Next, please step out of the-" the officer trailed off. A bullet severing his shoulder. The truck's tires burning as it sped away.  
  
"No," Sara exclaimed, but barely a sound was made. She stopped, knowing that there was practically no hope. She instead opted to conserve what energy she had left. It was hours later, after shedding bitter tears that she managed fall asleep, all faith abandoning her.  
  
~*~  
  
The landscape had changed, she was no longer in the darkness, but instead she was in the middle of the desert. She walked, struggling with every step, sand blasting in her face. The bright sun was focused on her, it was noon. Her throat was dry, screaming for a drop of water. The silence, isolation-and finally she heard a voice. It was Mark's, her heart stopped, and she turned to search for his face. She spotted him, driving a black truck, heading straight for her. She was horrified, and in response, her walk turned into wide strides, and into a brisk walk, and finally into a full on run for her life. The pain on her side intensified, her heart in commotion, but she kept on, knowing that he was straight behind her.  
  
~*~  
  
"Sara," Mark growled angrily. He grabbed her face and brought it close to his.   
  
Sara snapped into the present, away from her nightmare in the middle of the desert. But as she looked up, she realized that that nightmare was about to make itself a harsh reality.  
  
"Don't you ever... ever do that... ever," he screamed. The steam in from his mouth was bitter and pungent.  
And as much as Sara wanted to spit square on his face, she resisted the temptation, instead she just sat in her spot.  
No emotion escaped her; all the emotion she felt built up inside, knowing that she will have another opportunity to get him.  
  
He looked at her, wondering what the little woman was plotting, it made him feel uneasy. He scoffed,  
"If you think that Nick or your little friends will find you?" He paused,  
"Don't worry, they will, but if you ever do that again, they would have sort through it piece by piece." His eyes fixed on Sara, she felt the need to say something, but didn't, she only focused her anger internally, knowing that she would get the chance to let him have it. 'Patience Sara, patience.' She assured herself.  
Several moments passed, and with this, so did the rage in Mark's eyes.   
  
Sara could feel the slow release of her head, his hand withdrawing slowly. He looked at her longingly, she should see the crazed look in his eyes, a look that scared her and at the same time disgusted her. She looked straight at him, holding in the overwhelming need to vomit.  
  
~*~  
  
~*~  
  
She was in the middle of the desert. She walked, struggling with every step, sand blasting in her face. The bright sun was focused on her, it was noon. She looked tired, thirsty and lost. She hears a voice, and suddenly her walk turned into wide strides, then into a brisk walk, and finally into a full on run for her life. She was horrified, the pain expressed in her eyes.   
  
~*~  
  
"Sara!" Nick screamed, awakening from his brief dream. He turned to see if anybody heard, but he saw that everyone was preoccupied with the movie, Minority Report. Grissom himself had a headphone on, listening intently to some music.  
Nick was confused, 'what was that?' he asked himself.  
  
*---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*  
A/N – i'm not sure if there's a such this as a built-in hunting trunk, but it's pretty much a locked box to keep anything for hunting or camping.. like a big huge cooler.  
i know that the last part was a little cliché and most definitely controlled by "supernatural forces" but we all know that it could happen. anything can happen, it's just not a common occurrence.   
i really appreciate all the reviews, and i know that i need a beta reader but i don't really know how to get one, so that's something that i still have to figure out. but for now, i hope that it isn't too difficult to read. and if you find anything mistakes or questions, please review and tell me.  
please keep reading and reviewing, the conclusion is looming. i hope that you're enjoying it so far. i really appreciate all the reviews, suggestions and just the general feedback, it's been a real treat. as i say, love it, loathe it, review it! - oceanwave 


	11. The Race

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters… I'm only borrowing them for the sake of entertainment.  
  
~*~  
A/N – this chapter has pieces that are confusing, but at one point, two or four people are giving their perspective on the same situation at the same time, so just be aware.  
~*~  
  
"Sir, cell phones aren't allowed in this area," a man declared, motioning at the sign. Nick glared at the man, but refused to hang up his phone. He continued to follow Grissom out of the chaotic airport.  
  
'Welcome to Vegas' he thought.  
  
The night was cold and eerie; the bright lights of the city radiating as Nick and Grissom exited the airport, suitcases in tow. The airport was busy; transport vehicles were hauling luggage to and from planes, overnight passengers camped over seats and the constant messages heard over the PA system.  
  
"Warrick," he called.  
  
"Listen, I think we should start looking for black trucks-"  
  
"Oh, what do you mean?" he wondered, as Warrick interrupted with an explanation. He continued to listen intently.  
  
"We'll be right there," he concluded jumping in the car. Grissom taking the driver's seat.   
He looked at Nick, who was now sitting beside him, with adrenaline rushing through his body and fortitude in his brown eyes. He looked into the young CSI's face, waiting for him to talk.  
  
"Warrick has a lead," he finally explained. From that point, no words we exchanged. Instead, they quickly drove towards the city that was still alive; through the brightly lit and active Vegas strip.  
  
~*~  
  
"Yeah, black truck. I know," Warrick explained, confused as to why his friend had hinted on finding black trucks.  
  
"Fifteen minutes ago, highway patrol officer was injured on U.S. Route 93 when he pulled over a black truck for speeding," he paused.  
  
"The officer is doing fine at the hospital, and he's identified Mark Wallis as the man who fired at him," Warrick concluded. The man sensed the fear of his friend over the line.  
  
"We'll be right there," Nick said over the phone.  
But before Warrick could say anything else, the line went silent.  
  
~*~  
The parking lot was silent; a silence that was normal for the graveyard shift. However, tonight this silence made Nick feel uneasy. He and Grissom had just arrived from their short trip to San Francisco, and were now heading into the large CSI building. The building was cool, contrasting the warm moist air outside. Both men walked around the building, turning left, right, and finally finding their way to the break room. Today, unlike any other evening, it was empty, the coffee pot empty, and the garbage can full of trash. Grissom proceeded towards his office, just to visit his pets and Nick searched for someone to talk to - there was nobody. Disappointed, he wandered over to the locker rooms. He advanced by the tall metal lockers, stopped, and turned his head. 'SARA' the nameplate indicated, he missed her. He was worried; he didn't know where she was, no place to call her, just in case he wanted to check up on her. This has never happened before, he was afraid of what she's going through. He sighed and took a couple of steps back taking a seat on the bench. He reflected once again on what had transpired the day that Sara disappeared, the day when he last saw her, at this thought, he also remembered Traci. He scoffed at the way Sara and Traci reacted to each other once introduced. 'Was she jealous?' he questioned, 'of Traci?'  
  
"Nick," a voice called. It was Grissom, holding several folders in hand. Nick simply looked up, and waited patiently for Grissom to continue.  
  
"We have some leads that need to be tracked. We could use your help," he finally stated. Nick was relieved; he feared that Grissom's news wouldn't be pleasant. But he was now relieved, he half-grinned,  
  
"Alright," he replied as he quickly got up from his seat and followed Grissom out of the door.  
  
"I'll look over these files," Grissom requested.  
  
Nick had just put on a new pot of coffee and found himself a comfortable chair - he was ready to work. Eyeing the stack of folders or leads that Grissom had produced. He yawned, taking one folder out.   
  
"Nick, wake up," he heard a voice.   
  
The light flooding back into his eyes; it was Warrick, who looked like a complete mess. It was apparent that the events of the past several days had too taken a toll on the young.  
  
"Hey man, did I fall asleep? What time is it?" Nick questioned, rubbing his eyes as he tried to focus.  
  
"Yeah, you did sleep. It's 6:45, sunrise," Warrick answered. He had made his way towards the coffee machine, and has now started to pour himself a cup of coffee.  
  
"Anything new," Nick questioned. Who moved towards the coffee machine as well.  
  
"Brass is confirming reports of spotting a black truck on U.S. Route 93," Warrick explained.   
  
Just then, his phone rang, it was Brass. He just confirmed the reports, and it was true. At around midnight last night, a black truck was spotted at a secluded motel off the road. The man's appearance matched the description of "wanted by the police" flyer that had been handed out to the surrounding areas.  
  
Warrick said farewell and was now facing Nick, hesitating whether or not to discuss this matter further.  
  
"Brass?" Nick questioned. He paused.  
  
"I'm coming," he continued, dumping the mug-full of coffee into the sink and heading towards the door. Warrick shook his head, but simply followed his colleague.  
  
Before heading out of the building, Nick and Warrick were joined by Catherine and Grissom, who at this point was asking Catherine to stay back. The woman was determined, much like the rest of the group, and she stood her ground. Soon after a along piercing stare, Grissom finally gave in and allowed her to join.   
  
The sun was still shyly peeking over the city when the line of black Tahoes exited the city limits. In the first car were Brass and his team, followed by Nick and Warrick and rounding off the line were Catherine and Grissom.  
  
In the first jeep, Brass was endlessly chatting on the phone with the officials in Arizona, requesting for back up, when and if they encounter some resistance. He was also requesting permission to cross jurisdictions and become part of the "rescue" task.  
  
Warrick sat silently as Nick took control over the jeep. The jeep was speeding down the highway; the desert landscape passing by, not a word was said. Nick hadn't said anything since they left the break room, and Warrick was not eager to agitate Nick.  
  
Nick was focused on the road, figuring out in his mind what he was going to do if given the opportunity to encounter Mark Wallis again. Fury filled his eyes and adrenaline was working, he sensed that Warrick was also tense. With this in mind, he attempted to calm himself, or at least pretend, because he knew that he would never be able to be calm at this point.  
  
Warrick sat there, occasionally glancing at Nick, he could tell that his friend's mind was in a dark tunnel, he was afraid of what Nick might do once they do stop the jeep.  
  
Catherine and Grissom were also silent. They haven't talked since Grissom had arrived back from his trip.  
  
"How was the trip?" Catherine finally mentioned, as she slid the sunroof closed.  
  
"Alright," he answered, without taking his eyes off the road.  
  
"How did her parents react?" Catherine pried.  
  
"They were fine," he continued without blinking.   
  
As she looked at the man who sat beside her, she felt the deep emotions that were hidden. She observed the sunken eyes behind the glasses, dryness of his lips and the frown that was temporarily plastered on his face. Catherine looked away, she stared at the jeep ahead of them, then looked at Grissom. She then reached over to hold on to his right arm and squeezed it lightly.  
  
Grissom was subjected to questioning from Catherine, but he didn't fully respond, he just focused on the road. Then, just as his mind prepared to drift, he felt a warm hand on his arm, he looked over and tried hard to smile. He was thankful that he had Catherine, he was happy that she understood the sense of duty he had towards Sara, as her mentor. He was glad that Catherine was there supporting him. She smiled back.  
  
~*~  
  
The black truck pulled out of the parking space it had occupied overnight. The dust that the hood had collected almost made the truck seem like a different color. Inside were two passengers, one in the driver's seat and the other in a trunk.  
  
Sara lied in the small trunk, her knees almost touching her chin and her arm bound. The night had been horrible, but good compared to the time she spent inside this coffin. It might was well be her coffin, with it's locked top and stifling air, it was a death box. She tried to rotate, but the gash on her side was still bothering her, it was healing, but the pain was still there. Giving up, she just lied there, her eyes didn't hold anything, and she was empty. Hope was fleeing and she wasn't sure if she would ever see anything beyond the confines of this box and dirty motel rooms.   
  
" They just left," the hotel owner, mentioned over the phone as he watched the black truck pull out of its parking space.  
  
~*~  
  
They had been driving for an hour now, and the sun was hotter than ever, all three Tahoes were racing down the highway, dust blowing as they sped through. Each car still focused and eager to reach their destination. They passed dozens of towns, gasoline stations and motels, but they were solely interested in location. At this time they had caught up and in fact even surpassed Mark Wallis' motel location; thanks to the "delays" that the hotel manager had rigged. Brass had just gotten off the phone with the police, and he had just been informed that the truck had left the motel. They were close.  
  
Everyone was anxious once they received confirmation. Nick's heart gained momentum, Warrick chewed maniacally on gum, Grissom said nothing and Catherine tapped her fingers against the dashboard - they were ready.  
  
Brass was running scenarios with his officers, they were preparing themselves for a safe take down, knowing full well that this could go both ways. Despite the burning sun and raising temperature, they still wore black LVPD vests and predominant black outfits. They breathed deeply as they sighted a checkpoint that was being formed ahead.  
  
"Let's do this," Nick exhaled, as he stepped on the gas and maneuvered his way ahead of Brass' vehicle.  
  
The checkpoint was just outside the crossroads of Grasshopper Junction, AZ.   
  
When all the Tahoes reached the checkpoint, everyone introduced themselves and prepared their protective equipments and weapons. During this time, they also discussed what was going to unfold; along with the local police, they have set up a spot check, something along the lines of "ensuring the safety of drivers" was their excuse. It was in 15-25 minutes that Mark Wallis, the target, would reach this checkpoint.   
  
The trap was set.  
  
~*~  
  
'What's with the hold up?' he questioned. His eyes darted in front and behind, checking that he wasn't being followed - there was nobody behind him. He was one of the first vehicles to be in line of a checkpoint; his heart raced. Panic coursed through his veins. As he slowly moved towards the checkpoint, there were two cars ahead of him when he caught sight of the Tahoes that were parked past the checkpoint.  
  
"Damn!" He exclaimed, banging his fist on the wheel. Just then, the car in front had moved forward, his mind was racing.  
  
Sara could hear the frustration in Mark's voice, she heard the words that were spewing out of his mouth. Something was going on.  
  
Heart racing, palms sweating, beads of sweat forming around his forehead; he was thinking 'if I drive the other direction, they'd know it was me, if I stay...' his mind went blank. He didn't know what to do. Panic.  
  
"Target approaching. Stand by," the voice was heard over the radio. Everyone heard it, most stayed hidden, some were behind the cars, but some stayed unseen behind the small bridge, down in the river.  
  
Warrick, Nick, and Grissom were the closest to the checkpoint they were behind the tall grass beside the river.   
Nick gripped the binoculars, knuckles white. Grissom too held a pair of binoculars, observing the officers at the checkpoint. Warrick kept his eye on the black truck, trying to find signs of Sara, but nothing. His blood ran cold when he saw the face of Mark Wallis; Nick had identified him earlier, along with the sound of anger in his tone.  
  
Mark continued to ponder, knowing full well that this was the end of the road. He was panicking, and he didn't know what to do, he couldn't let them do this, he was meant to be with Sara, this was all for Sara. This was fate, Sara was his! All this emotion enraged him, without hesitation, he reversed the car, making visible tire marks on the road. He headed towards the opposite direction. Adrenaline and mental instability had fully taken over him, he was determined to keep Sara with him. Sara was his.  
  
The car jerked, 'something is definitely amiss' Sara thought. She felt the car move swiftly, and along the way, she banged her head against the panel above her head.  
  
"He's on the move. Go!" Warrick exclaimed as he quickly pulled the binoculars away from his face and raced towards the Tahoe; Nick closely behind him. Both men jumped into the jeep and sped after the runaway truck ahead of them. Catherine had raced over to the Tahoe and when Grissom reached it; they too sped after the truck and the Tahoe. The cavalry soon followed, abandoning the trap that they had set, the plan now had a different dimension.  
  
"Warrick punch it!" Nick exclaimed. As the jeep accelerated and quickly took flight and closely tailed the truck.  
  
"Damn! You'll never get me Nick," he stated. He knew that Nick was behind him, he spotted the vested man jumping out of the river.  
  
"You will never get Sara," he stated coldly. He made a quick sharp turn to the right, hoping that the large delivery truck would slow down the parade of jeeps that were now trailing him.  
  
"Right! Right!" Nick waved, the redness in his face said all the emotions. Warrick's face was focused as well, never keeping his eyes off the truck ahead of them.  
  
"BANG!"  
  
"What the-" Mark called out. Something had punctured one of the truck's tires. He looked at the truck behind him, it wasn't them. Panic.  
  
Sara was afraid, her heart was racing, knowing full well that the truck was traveling at a high speed. "What's going on?" Beads of water soon fell down her cheeks, she was frightened.  
  
Mark looked down ahead, he was on a partially abandoned road. He looked up to check on the Tahoe behind him, they were closer. He quickly reached under his seat and grabbed a concealed revolver.  
  
At this point, Warrick had driven up to Mark's side, Nick drew his handgun. He rolled the window down and shot the black truck's tire. Sending the unstable truck off the road, but, it continued to speed ahead.  
  
Sara screamed, hearing the shot fired and feeling the car jerk.  
  
Grissom, Catherine, Brass and the police witnessed what transpired, they were all concerned. Grissom wondered when Sara was, he scanned the truck - nothing.  
  
Warrick and Nick were intent to getting Mark, they pursued the unstable truck in the middle of the dry desert, sand blowing into the vehicle as both continued to travel at a high speed.  
  
"Shit!" He screamed, frustration getting the best of him. Everything was crumbling around him. Panic.  
  
"One more time," Nick signaled. Warrick agreed and continued to drive alongside Mark's vehicle.  
  
Brass was stunned, 'what's going on?' he questioned as he witnessed the Tahoe drive up to the truck.  
  
He inhaled, exhaled, heart pumping furiously, sun slightly burning his exposed skin. He aimed, and 'BANG'   
  
Nick had fired another shot.  
  
The truck ahead swerved, and this time it stopped. Warrick quickly stepped on the brakes.  
  
'Crap' Sara had hit her head once more, but this time, the car had stopped moving. Fear took over her body, 'this was it,' she thought. She felt her heart race, body weakening, arms and fingers shaking - terrified.  
  
With the others close behind, Warrick and Nick swung the door open and stepped onto the dry desert ground, each pointing their weapons at Mark Wallis.  
  
Slowly, Mark Wallis immerged from the dirty truck, and holding onto the doorframe for support, hands halfway up.  
  
The sun was fierce as moments passed, all waiting for Mark Wallis to surrender. Each minute seemed like an hour, and each light breeze made the time seem lengthened. A group of officers approached Mark Wallis; he appeared tired, weak, and disoriented. They continued to approach; suddenly, he pulled out the pistol that he had hidden in the side compartment of the door.  
  
'BANG'  
  
Mark Wallis fell onto the dry ground. It wasn't over. He lifted his heavy arms and aimed it towards Nick, he fired, but missed, instead hitting another officer.  
  
Warrick didn't pull his gun down, after spotting Mark Wallis' pistol and taking the first shot. He was hesitant about shooting again, but didn't have to, Mark was shot again.  
  
'BANG'   
  
Nick was rattled, but the emotional rollercoaster that he had endured the past several days helped him focus and react. He aimed to disable Mark, the shot grazed his thigh. This blow forced him to fall. In one swift move, all the officers that had gathered around them arrested Mark Wallis, it was over.  
  
Gripping his gun, Nick pointed it at the ground as he cautiously moved toward the truck. He wondered where Sara was, his mind moving a mile a minute.  
  
Sara gasped and her heart sank, she heard gun shot right outside. Then, silence. 'Was it over?' She thought.  
  
"Sara!" Nick screamed frantically. By this time, Grissom, Warrick, and Catherine had joined the chorus.  
  
"Sara!" She heard her name, and she struggled to give them a signal. 'I'm here' her mind screamed.  
  
"The trunk, where are the keys?" Nick wondered, as he spotted the dark hunting trunk chained and locked in the back of the truck. Everyone cautiously checked the interior of the vehicle - nothing. They all looked disappointedly at Nick.  
  
As he stared into his colleagues' confused eyes, he jumped off the truck, and commenced walking towards the Mark Wallis, who was at present lying at the back of a jeep, surrounded by officers. He walked straight up to the man, pushing each officer out of the way, eyes burning with wrath.  
  
"Where are the keys?" He questioned, breathing heavily into Mark's face, ready to do something drastic.  
  
"Listen you little piece of-"  
  
"Nick!" Warrick called. Slowly, he turned his head to face Warrick's voice. Just as quickly, he jumped out of the jeep and ran towards the abandoned truck.  
  
'Oh God, please be alright,' he hoped. He was handed a solitary key, he accepted it, no questions asked. His heart slowed, the redness of his face apparent and the lines across his forehead more pronounced. He jumped onto the back of the truck and stared at the trunk, 'please be alright Sara.'  
  
Slowly he inserted the key into the lock, and just as slowly, he raised the cover.   
  
His heart stopped, and he took a step back, the look of terror in his eyes  
  
Warrick was confused, Catherine had her eyes partially closed, while Grissom studied the expression on Nick's face.   
  
Something wasn't right.  
  
*---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*  
A/N – hmm, what happens next? i just wanted to thank everyone who had been reading and reviewing my project, i really appreciate all the feedback, i'm learning a lot from my first attempt at fanfics.  
love it, loathe it, review it! thanks. - oceanwave 


	12. Thank you

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters; they are the property of the creators and producers of CSI.  
  
~*~  
  
The trunk was empty.  
  
He slammed his fist against the top of the truck, his face red with anger, his breathing intensified and his heart sinking. The others looked at their distressed colleague, knowing the pain and anger that brewed within him.  
  
Sara heard the loud thud overhead, she could feel the presence of someone, the person was close, but she didn't know what to do. 'I'm right here,' she thought. Once again, she struggled to get herself free, to make some noise, to attract attention. Her energy was running low, and she knew that if she wanted to get out of her "coffin" she would have to fight. With all the strength she could muster, she lifted her head heavily, hitting it against the top lid.  
  
'BANG' 'BANG'  
  
Everyone stood still; Nick turned his head towards the empty trunk,  
  
"Did you hear that?" He questioned, moving his head closer towards the trunk. All listened once more,  
  
'BANG' 'BANG'  
  
"Warrick, help me with this," Nick requested. Warrick jumped on top of the pick-up truck and attempted to help Nick with what seemed as the bottom of the trunk. Grissom looked over to the direction of the box, concerned and raising an eyebrow. Catherine ran off to call Brass.  
  
'Oh God, please hear me,' Sara screamed. She tried to scream, but the dryness in her throat and the tightness of the cloth around her mouth made it difficult. It was at this time that her eyes began to close, the slight appearance of light fading, and her body weakening. Her head drooped, feeling energy drain from her body, and she was ready to rest.  
  
Strong arms and hands were pulling against the metal bottom of the trunk, listening for the continuous thumping below them. The noise stopped,  
  
"Sara! Hold on, we're here," Warrick yelled.  
  
"Sara! Stay with us…I'm here," Nick added. He grunted, as frustration took over his actions, muscles flexing to free the metal lid open. Finally, after one great pull, the lid gave way. Inside was the beaten and crumpled body of Sara. The bloody retrains around her hands and legs, the cloth tied around her mouth, and the bruises that littered her face. Her shirt was soaking with blood; it was visible that she had suffered a cut on her side.  
  
Nick's eyes widened, terror in his eyes, with one swift move he moved forward to check Sara's vitals. She was all right – a faint pulse remained.  
  
"I need a medic!" he exclaimed. Warrick stepped aside, letting Nick care for Sara, he understood Nick's position, and he simply looked at Grissom, who with Catherine stared at the semi-lifeless body of Sara.  
  
Nick didn't know what to do, 'Oh God, the blood,' his mind screamed. He tucked his arm around Sara's head and slightly lifted her, yet revealing another bruise. His heart ached; the sight paralyzed him,  
  
"Sara-" he whispered. But before he could finish, the paramedics swooped in and pushed Nick aside. Nick hesitantly moved, only letting go of her hand when Grissom had motioned him to move away, in order to make some room for the paramedics to help Sara.  
  
Never once did he take his eyes away from her, he was afraid that if he did, then something horrible would happen. The pain that masked his face was piercing; on one hand, he wanted to kill Mark Wallis, but on the other, he just wanted to hold Sara.  
  
~*~  
  
Nightingale Hospital  
Kingman, Arizona  
  
All four CSIs sat in the waiting room, minutes passing, without knowledge about Sara's condition. Warrick sat with his legs crossed; Grissom sat uneasily as he stared out into the hallway. Catherine was sitting beside Grissom, her elbow resting on the back of the chair, she turned her body towards Grissom, she too stared into the empty hallway. Nick was pacing, stopping by the door every time, and looking up at the clock above the doorway. Many people rushed in and out of room, stretchers entering and exiting the ER; the minutes ticked slowly. The pale green paint color on the walls made them all feel sick, the smell of the medicines gagging and the feel of the rooms, cold.  
  
"Mr. Grissom," the doctor wondered. The man wore a green surgical scrub, with a mask resting around his neck.  
  
"I'm Dr. Wiserman, I was wondering if I could have a word with you," he asked, motioning Grissom out the door. But Grissom plainly stayed put,  
  
"I think it would be best if we all hear what you have to say," he answered.   
  
He glanced over at Nick, and then searching Catherine's eyes for support; she leaned her body forward, signaling Grissom of her support.  
  
"I don't usually do this, but since her family is not here; and assuming that you have notified them of her condition, I guess I can tell you what has happened," the doctor stated.  
  
Nick's heart was thumping violently; his breathing was more laborious as he leaned against the wall. Warrick also sat up in anticipation, his eyes squinting, ready to comprehend the doctor's words.  
  
"The good news is, she's stabilized," the doctor half-smiled. Nick could feel a huge 'but' coming.  
  
"But she suffered a lot of injury. Her hands have been severely cut by the friction of the restrains that the kidnapper used," he continued, glancing over at the horrified faces of those in the room. He was most concerned for the man who was leaning against the wall. He saw the man's body tremble, and almost fall. He hesitated to continue, but knew that they all needed to know.  
  
"As well, she also gained a large laceration on her side, and she lost a lot of blood. Her current health is deteriorating," he paused. His mind was thinking of the right words to phrase the next news he was to tell.  
  
"She's fallen in to a deep coma," he simply stated.  
  
The room's hopes had toppled, the smell, the horrible paint color and the noise had drifted away; this moment solely focused on the words that had made its way out of the doctor's lips. Catherine reached for Grissom's hand, and once he felt her hand's warmth he gladly held it, he too needed support. Warrick had buried his head between his hands and if someone were to listen closely, you could almost hear a faint sob. Then there was Nick, the melancholy pretense that had occupied the young Texan's face had now completely turned into an emotional road map. With bitter sadness and tears that took over the brown eyes that usually beamed with positively. His radiant smile now turned into a heavy frown. He clutched the rail beside him, holding on tightly.  
  
Moments passed, and the doctor could feel the room's sudden melancholy mood, he felt the need to redeem the sadness of losing hope,  
  
"As I said, she's stable now, and I can't do anything more for her here. It's against policy, but if you'd like I could order a transfer to a hospital in Las Vegas, so she could be with her family," the doctor finally said.   
  
It made Warrick look up at the generous doctor, knowing that he was going beyond the bounds of his duty. He glanced at Grissom; he knew that it was his choice to make.  
  
Grissom caught the attention of everyone in the room, and finally he formulated a sentence.  
  
"Thank you," he said.   
  
The doctor simply smiled and shook hands with Grissom; leaving the four of them to dwell on the news.  
  
~*~  
  
Orange, pink, blue, and yellow; the streaks of color seized the sky. Nick drove the Tahoe rapidly through the highway, his mind focused on one thing; Mark Wallis. 'That little son of a-" he cursed. He had just left the hospital, knowing that in several hours, Sara would be arriving in Las Vegas. He also knew that in a couple of hours, Mark Wallis might lawyer up, giving the authorities little time to interrogate him. Nick was adamant about questioning the kidnapper. He had questions about Traci, this game he's played and about Sara; he was going to put him away. Nobody did that to anybody he loved; Mark Wallis was going to pay - he'll make sure of it.  
  
*---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*  
A/N – the end's almost here, and although this chapter is really short and less intense, please wait for the next chapters. i'm really sorry for not updating sooner, but i hope the wait was worth it. i've absolutely love all of you, and i would like to thank all of you who have reviewed and have given me great advise. again, keep reading, keep questioning, and keep reviewing. i promise to post something soon. 


	13. Answers

Disclaimers: I don't own the characters, CBS and the show's producers do. Don't sue me.  
  
Somewhere behind Nick, Catherine and Warrick also drove in silence, only the sound of the wind gusting against the windshield was heard, no music, no words - just silence.  
  
Hours of silence. Finally, as they entered the city limits of Las Vegas, the silence of the desert had now turned into the noise of the city, of the city that doesn't sleep. They drove towards CSI, knowing that there was still a lot to do. In silence, both observed the lights and fanfare of the Strip. A ringing phone broke the silence they had nurtured since leaving,  
  
"Willows," Catherine answered.  
  
"We'll be there," she quickly concluded, turning off the phone. Warrick looked at her curiously, wondering about the call.  
  
"They're gonna start questioning Mark Wallis," she said, the look of fear in her eyes.  
  
Surprised by the comment, Warrick knew that an interrogation at this time could make emotions run high. He was worried about how the questioning would turn out. But all his escalating emotions ceased as he turned into the LVPD/CSI lab office driveway. They navigated towards their usual parking spot and parked. As both jumped out of the jeep, Catherine muttered that Nick had arrived before them.  
  
'This is definitely going to be a tough night,' Warrick thought to himself, as he walked through the entrance doors.  
  
~*~  
  
It was time to go home, and all the Tahoes had departed the day before. Everyone was exhausted, no rest from the yesterday's events, and certainly eager to return home. The red chopper carrying Sara lifted off the heli-pad, alongside her was Grissom. He stared at her pale and innocent face knowing that they would soon be reunited with the others. Sara was going home.  
  
~*~  
  
Lighting in the room was sparse, the layout simple; two chairs, a cold metal table and a two-way mirror. Nick sat calmly at one end of the table, while Mark Wallis walked in to occupy the other. Both Catherine and Warrick arrived just moments before, both now standing beside the door. Brass leaned against the table, sliding forth two files. It was full house, and Mark Wallis was in for a ride, rather, they were in for a ride.  
  
"Wow, don't I get the star treatment," Mark stated as he walked through the door. He clapped his hands and slid comfortably into the chair. He smirked, a cold smirk that only he could find amusing.  
  
"How's Sara?" He questioned, staring directly at Nick, knowing that the comment would hit a cord.   
  
Nick simply sat there, inspecting the degenerate scum that was before him. He kept a straight face, never revealing himself, his true weakness, and the cards up his sleeve.  
  
"Hey buddy, how about we end this right here. You tell us what happened," Brass commenced with the questioning.  
  
"I thought you were suppose to be the best, why don't you tell me what happened," Mark smirked confidently.  
  
"How about this? You have been obsessing about Sara since high school, but second rate to your brother, David, you never got any play," Warrick added. He moved forward and was not only a foot away from Mark's seat. Nick continued to stare straight ahead.  
  
"But when you realized that there was no way Sara would ever go for you; you killed your brother."  
  
"It wasn't an accident, you killed your brother. You knew that you would never have Sara," Catherine interjected. Mark simply smiled, and looked at the blonde-haired woman beside him.  
  
His eyes darted around the room; his sweat glands ready to spew a pool of sweat. He swallowed hard but said nothing.  
  
"You followed Sara, to Boston; you went to Tufts University while she was at Harvard. We also found your corporate apartment here, just minutes away from her place," Warrick said. Brass continued to stare at the guilty face of Mark Wallis; Nick just stared, he was silent.  
  
"Then, once you got your life back on track, you decided to reunite with Sara, at the baseball game. Hoping that she, would open up to you; maybe even hoping to get some play," Brass insinuated .  
  
"That's where you saw Traci. You're not a very neat man are you? We found her," Warrick added, his eyes squinting at the gears that he knew were now moving inside Mark Wallis' brain.  
  
"Surprised?" Catherine quipped.  
  
"You don't know anything," Mark simply answered.  
  
"You killed her," Nick finally said. The silence he had attained was now broken; at this moment he thought that if patience was a virtue, then he should be a saint.   
  
"You took her to spite me, to distract us from finding Sara. You wanted to hurt me," he paused.  
  
"Don't sound so conceded Nick, this wasn't all about you," Mark responded.  
  
"The funny thing is that, you probably actually think that Sara loves you. That she would somehow understand all of this, forgive you. She doesn't love you, she never loved you. You know that. You knew that you were never man enough to tell her, so you plotted to kidnap her. And Traci was your escape goat, your distraction," he continued. Almost sounding like a hypocrite when he realized how long he had waited to realize his own feelings for Sara. However, he pushed on, never missing a beat.  
  
"You're the reason she left San Francisco," he lashed out.   
  
"I bet you didn't know that, she left to get away from you, Mark, from you!" The fury in his eyes burning, the nerves around his neck pulsating.  
  
Something snapped.  
  
"That's not true. Sara loves me, she always loved me. She just doesn't know it yet. I'll make her love me, she will. She will forget about you, about Las Vegas. She's going to pick me," Mark breathed hard as he focused solely on the face of Nick.  
  
Two eyes met fury red in each other's eyes. The battle had begun, and it was going to be a fight for everything. Mark sat back down and simply scoffed,  
  
"As for your sweet innocent Traci, well, has she ever told you who she really is?" He continued, smiling like an idiot.  
  
"Jennifer Tracy, does that name ring any bells?" His seemingly clever eyes turned into something different. Something out of control, almost as if a different person was speaking.   
  
Nick was clueless.  
  
"Of course you wouldn't. She followed you in university, she worshipped you. She went to every game, she took every class, he attended all the parties, and you didn't even notice." The tone of his voice changed, he spoke with more conviction, without hesitation, without knowledge that he was about to make a confession.  
  
"She was the one with the plan. She wanted to get rid of Sara, and all she needed was a helper," he said smugly, his eyes widening at every pause.  
  
"We met at a radio convention at the Bellagio, she had a radio show, and I was a promoter. We got talking, and boom, the baseball game."  
  
All looked at him with great curiosity and confusion. They listened as a method soon became from Mark's madness.  
  
"What you thought that our encounter was all a coincidence?" He questioned, crossing his arms and leaning against the cold back of his seat.  
  
"The contest was rigged. And your friend Warrick was the target. So Warrick, have you gotten over your 'itch' to take a chance?" Warrick's eyes narrowed, he was intrigued.  
  
"The plan was to get everyone together, so everybody knew the players in the game. Have a great time, just to make sure that everybody would overlook the both of us."  
  
"You're lying. How could you have known that I was going to be called away," Warrick questioned. He recalled the week before he was suppose to go to the baseball game with Nick. That day, Grissom had asked him to attend a seminar; he had to go, and he definitely had to give up his tickets.  
  
"Ha! That was by pure chance. It didn't matter if you were there or not, Traci was already going to be there, she's the one who's promoting the radio. It just so happens that you got called to a seminar, and well, giving Nick the tickets for a date with Traci certainly just handed us a better plan." The man simply confirmed, before staring at the surprised look on Warrick's face - Mark just smiled.  
  
'This is insane. How deep does this go?' Warrick questioned himself, observing carefully the facial expressions of Mark Wallis.  
  
"Everything was going well, until that little bitch cut Sara, she wanted her to die. My Sara, she wanted to permanently get rid of my Sara," Mark disrupted. He shook fists up in the air.  
  
"Well, I got rid of her first - permanently. That showed, her, nobody ever hurts my Sara, nobody." Mark's actions were erratic; he lowered his arms, looked innocently at the floor before looking up maniacally at the rest of the room.  
  
Nick was silent. Shocked that every answer was just under his nose; shocked at the expression in Mark's face.  
  
"Oh but Nick, don't beat yourself up over it. She really loved you." He smiled. The twisted evil darkness in his mind was exposed.  
  
"You son of a bitch-" Nick jumped forward in an attempt to him. Arms fully extended and body tilted forward; it took all the strength of Warrick and Brass to restrain the raging bull that was Nick. Catherine was startled by the sudden movement and was now observing Nick from a distance. She witnessed the anger, fury, and disgust that flowed through his veins. He was out for blood.  
  
"Easy, easy. Calm down," Warrick hushed.  
  
"Take him away, this interrogation is over," Brass ordered.  
  
The guards that stood outside the doors whisked the laughing and deranged Mark Wallis out of the room. The all looked at him, the handcuffs and chains grinding against each other as he walked out of the room. It took several moments before Nick was fully calm, the redness in his face had subsided, and the shaking of his arms had seized. The room's tension and heavy mood had also diffused out the door; the night was dragging, and everyone needed to head home.  
  
After assuring Warrick and Catherine that he was all right, Nick finally convinced them to head home. They both were tired, he could tell that Warrick needed to take a shower and that Catherine needed to be home with her daughter. He on the other hand had some unfinished business.  
  
He cautiously walked towards the holding cells, making sure that Brass was not in view. As an investigator, he was let through the security check with ease, and soon he found himself standing outside the metal door. The interrogation's efforts made Nick sick and now he was ready to confronted Mark Wallis. He pushed open the door and walked in, trying desperately to be calm, a concept that went out the window once he saw the face of the man who had taken away Sara, who had put her through turmoil.  
  
The man stood up from the bed and walked over to where the CSI was standing; he crossed his arm and stared at the taller man in front of him. He was grinning.  
  
Nick grabbed the collar of Mark Wallis' shirt, and slammed him angrily against the wall.  
  
"If anything happens to Sara, I swear to God, I will get you. If it takes one bullet or my entire life, I will get you, - I will bring you down," Nick yelled angrily, never blinking an eye. He stared coldly into the eyes of Mark Wallis and slowly released the man of the death grip he had on his collar.  
  
He walked away, knowing what he knows, knowing the answers that he sought; but still feeling empty.  
  
*---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*  
A/N - *inhale* *exhale* well, now you know the answers, what do you think? i'd love to hear about what y'all think of this chapter.  
as you can tell, the story's almost at an end, and the next chapter is probably going to be the last... so stay tuned.  
thanks again to all who have reviewed, i truly appreciate your comments and suggestions. 


	14. Fighter

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters; they are the property of the creators and producers of CSI. I only borrowed them.  
  
~*~  
  
The smell of gin was strong, Nick sat at the end of a smoke laden bar. He was on his third shot of Vodka when Warrick entered the room. He walked towards his peer and sat in the stool beside him. Nick didn't flinch, he sat there staring straight ahead, contemplating taking another shot.  
  
"You shouldn't be here," Warrick began.  
  
Nick scoffed, "oh yeah? Well then, tell me where I'm supposed to be." Warrick looked at his trouble friend and responded,  
  
"You should be there. Instead of drinking the pain away, why don't you try to help her? Talk to her."  
  
"That's rich, telling me what I should be doing," Nick responded hurtfully. He took another sip of Vodka.  
  
"Just tell her," Warrick finally concluded. He patted Nick's shoulder as he proceeded out the door.  
  
Nick sat there, confused; all his emotions in a twist.  
  
~*~  
  
Grissom stood outside the room, not wanting to go in, to sit in a chair beside her. It pained him, the tubes and the wires were too much, and she suffered too much. He looked, as Sara's fragile body lied in bed, eyes closed. He couldn't imagine the things that this woman had gone through, enough to knock the life away from her body. He always saw the pain that parents went through when they lost a child, 'this is as close as I can get' he thought to himself. Tears were ready to cascade down his cheeks when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder, he smelled vanilla and knew who was standing beside him. The vanilla made him feel at ease, reminding him of happier times.  
  
"I knew I'd find you here. How is she?" Catherine questioned. She too looked through the glass window that parted them from Sara's room.  
  
"She's fighting," Grissom answered.  
  
"Have you talked to her parents?" Catherine continued to question.  
  
"Not yet, but I did receive a copy of her living will," Grissom answered quietly. He handed her a piece of paper.  
  
He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to find a way to suppress the tears that were threatening to fall.  
  
"She's requested that in the event of her death, she wants to donate her body to science." Grissom placed his glasses back on his nose and glanced at Catherine.  
  
"And you signed it, as her witness," Catherine concluded. She looked up momentarily at Sara, then at Grissom.  
  
His face was worse than it was the last time they talked, it was evident that he hasn't slept in days; she stared at his usually relaxing eyes. She wanted to do something for him; to comfort him during this time.  
  
"Don't beat yourself up over this, it was her choice. We just have to honor it when and if it happens," a brief pause passed.  
  
"Listen, you look tired and I'm sure that you're hungry, why don't you come over?" Catherine offered.  
  
"You can't do this to yourself, there's nothing more you can do. It's not up to us whether she lives or dies. Fate can tell, and time will know," she continued. She placed the palm of her hand on his rough cheek and looked at his tired eyes. He was empty, void of any emotion that can be expressed, nothing.  
  
He looked into her blue eyes and searched, searched for something to hold on to. Grissom knew that he was losing faith, and losing his mind. It was through her eyes that he seemed to find warmth and understanding. He half-smiled.  
  
"I'll be ok," he finally said. "You go home to your little girl, I'm sure that she wants to see you," he whispered.  
  
She looked up at him, and cupped his face; she stood on her tiptoes and placed a warm kiss on his forehead. She smiled and stared into his eyes as she placed her feet flat on the ground.  
  
He was surprised, he didn't know what to say, or even, if to say anything at all.   
  
As she reached over to hold his hand, she looked straight ahead at Sara's motionless body; she knew that Sara was a fighter. She was going to fight.  
  
He took her hand and held it, knowing that they both needed someone. He too looked straight ahead, praying that she would soon wake up.  
  
Both of them stood there for a moment, staring at the colleague they missed; they stood there, not saying a word but feeling like they had listened to each other's thoughts.  
  
He was glad that she wanted to keep him company, but at the same time, he also knew that it was rude and selfish of him to exclude himself from her. He saw and felt her concern, her eyes never lied.   
  
"How about we get some coffee," he offered with comfort, as he ushered her towards the exit. She smiled, but was glad that he was taking time to care of himself for once. Both of them glanced back at Sara; she'll be alright, both thought, she's a fighter.  
  
~*~  
  
St. Luke's Hospital  
Las Vegas, Nevada  
  
The hospital was calm, especially the Intensive Care Unit, the nurses huddled around the nurses station. Soft voices raced the intercom system, paging doctors and specialist. The dark cold night gripped the hospital, but Nick sat there, just staring at Sara.  
  
His heart physically hurt, but he felt somewhat empty. Empty, all faith and hope slipping from his grasp. For hours had he sat in the same chair, not knowing what he wanted, expecting something, but knowing that it was hopeless.  
  
Slowly, he leaned closer to Sara's face, studied every line, eyelash and crease in her lips.  
  
He reached for hand, and held it between his. The frailty of her fingers had surprised him. But he looked at her, still pained by the sight of tubes, wires, and monitors.  
  
"Sara, I know that you want to go, but you're a fighter Sara; fight, this isn't your time. Despite what you think, you're not ready to go... I'm not ready for you to go," he paused.  
  
"Stay, I'll be here...I'm here Sara." Tears were fighting to break free.  
  
Nick held her hand, and rested his head beside her, staring up at her solemnly.  
  
~*~  
  
A tall woman walked past the rows of ICU rooms, briefly stopping at one in particular, SARA SIDLE, the name on the door read. She looked at the patient, then realized that the woman was active, she had just moved her head. Quickly, she moved towards the nurse's station.  
  
"Call Dr. Foster. Sara Sidle has just woken up," the nurse requested.   
  
~*~  
  
Her vision moved from darkness to light, her eyes were tired and heavy. She reached for the warm hand that had held hers, but there was nobody there. Slowly, the silence in her head slowly dissipated, and now she began to hear the sounds of the hospital, the beeps, occasional page, and soft voices of nurses across the hall. The light was overwhelming, and in turn, she turned her head away from the window to her left, instead she faced the table full of bouquets 'Get Well Soon Sara' one balloon inscribed. Also, there was a chair, several magazines and empty coffee cups. She continued to blink, trying to gain as much focus on her surroundings as soon as possible.  
  
~*~  
  
Las Vegas Courthouse  
Preliminary hearing of Mark Wallis  
9:04 am  
  
'BANG' 'BANG'  
  
His world went dark.  
  
The body of Mark Wallis lied dead in a pool of red blood. His mother stood there, with a gun in her hand, tears streaming down her face.  
  
~*~  
  
St. Luke's Hospital  
Las Vegas, Nevada  
9:15  
  
The team had just arrived, along with presents; Grissom held a small plant, Catherine with a bear and a note from Lindsey, Warrick gripped a fruit basket, Greg too, had sent a chocolate bar.  
  
They just arrived to witness the nurse disconnect several tubes from Sara, some wires still connected to her arms. She smiled at the sight before her, she was glad to see them.  
  
She smiled. 'Where's Nick?' She questioned to herself, looking beyond the group in hopes of finding him. He wasn't there.  
  
"Nick's on his way," Catherine answered, as if reading Sara's thoughts. The blonde woman walked over and handed Sara the note and picture that Lindsey had insisted on giving Sara. Sara accepted the note and read it. She smiled and soon handed it Warrick for inspection. He too smiled;  
  
GET WELL SOON.  
- Lindsey  
  
Grissom at on the chair while Catherine leaned against the chair's arms. Warrick stood by the window. Sara simply looked at them, speechless; the days she spent in that trunk had made her reflect on her life. For one thing, she reflected on her work, on her colleagues; she feared not being able to hear her mother's nagging or her father's constant plea to visit. All her emotions consisted of fear, fear of not being able to do things, or say things; one simple resentment that plagued her mind. She regretted knowing that her last encounter with Nick ended in an argument. She always hated clichés, hearing them, and never really listening to them. But she resented the saying "its better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all" knowing full well that she's loved only two people, but always never got the chance to tell them. David Wallis, was her first love, the one that changed her look on life, who pushed her to become whatever she wanted. He died in a surfing accident before she could even tell him. It had been a while that she started to have feelings for her Texan, fun loving, and caring colleague, Nick. It was a gradual progression from a friendship that blossomed into something different. She hesitated making a move, she knew his track record with women, and she feared getting hurt. She tried many times to ignore her emotions, even taking different travel routes around the lab to avoid him. She didn't want to get involved, she didn't want him to hurt her before anything even began. It was the day when she did encounter him that she realized she couldn't hide. The relationship she had patched together with Hank, the paramedic, was a shattered, and Nick was there for a shoulder to cry on. She hated being rescued, and she was embarrassed that she was saved. Until that day at the baseball game confirmed what she dreaded, she was indeed in love. The jealous rage that took over her body at the sight of Traci was her wake up call.  
  
Nick walked the room and smiled at Sara. Their eyes locked for more than a few moments, each other's heart beating faster. The ECG that was connected to Sara confirmed it. At this point in time, Catherine glanced over at Grissom, knowing that it was their cue to leave.  
  
"Hi Nick," Catherine greeted while she gently tugged at Grissom's arm.  
  
"We were just on our way out. We have a lot of work to catch up on," Grissom spat out professionally. Both hurried out the door and waved as they closed the door behind them.  
  
"How are you?" he asked timidly, a little grin creeping up on him. He handed her a bouquet of flowers. His appearance today was a lot better than the last couple of days, for once he has actually gotten more than an hour's sleep. And for once in the past week, he actually smiled. His smile radiated onto Sara, and she too smiled.  
  
"Exactly how I felt like after my first drinking party," she joked. Her pale cheeks had lent themselves to a light pink shade. Nick laughed too, he was happy that she was all right. The tubes and wires that covered her body have since been removed, leaving Sara free to move. As he stood there studying her, he noticed that she too commenced on studying his face.  
  
She looked wonderingly at Nick, who was just standing at the foot of her bed, he was dress casually, sporting a Texas Rangers t-shirt and jeans. He didn't look like himself today; his eyes looked tired and faded, his laugh lines almost neglected. She wondered, 'I hope you're all right Nick.'  
  
"So, how are the Rangers doing?" She asked, trying to both change the subject and sound cheery.  
  
"They've been on three game losing streak," he drawled confidently.  
  
"Oh, and before I forget, I brought you a present." He smiled handing her a pretty navy blue bag. She looked at him for a moment, hesitant as to receiving a strange package from Nick, she eyed him with suspicion and surprise,  
  
"Should I be scared," she teased. He just looked at her, waiting for her to make a decision. And a decision she made, she opened the package carefully,  
  
"An mp3 player," she paused and gave Nick a 'are-you-crazy-what-were-you-thinking-buying-me-an-mp3-player' look.  
  
"Well, in case you get bored, I compiled about 92 songs; from Norah Jones, I heard she's really big, to Garth Brooks," he smiled smugly. Her face was filled with horror, but she smiled, 'that's pretty cute.'  
  
"God, I knew there was a reason to live," she smiled. He laughed too.  
  
There was silence that invaded the room, Nick stood calmly at the foot of her bed, while she lied semi-comfortably on the bed.  
  
'I should say something, I should tell her. I love you Sara' he said in his mind. 'Tell her,' it yelled again. His heart ached, knowing that three simple words could speak volumes. To relieve himself of the pain and worry that he had gone through, to have all his emotions exposed.  
  
'Say something, it was about time you said something. Quick, he's looking at you. Oh, he's walking over, say something.' Her mind was devising random sentences.  
  
At this time, he finally reached her side, he held her hand and smiled. 'System overload' her mind screamed. 'Say something' it continued.  
  
"Thank you for being here last night, thank you for telling me to fight," she stared at his brown eyes, honesty, and gratefulness flowing from her heart.  
  
He too smiled, 'This is your chance, say something.'  
  
"I'm glad that you decided to stay," there was an awkward pause.  
  
"I just came by to see how you were doing, to say hello. But you need your rest, it was nice to see you Sara," he finally said. 'Coward!' His mind retorted.  
  
He bent down to kiss her forehead, and he turned to start walking out the door.  
  
"Nick?" Sara beckoned. 'That's right, say something.' her subconscious agreed. He turned around.  
  
"Thanks. I'm glad I stayed," she grinned. '...and...' her mind urged, disappointed at the abruptness of her formulated sentence.  
  
He smiled, and continued on his way out. 'I should have said something,' his mind reminded him.  
  
'I should have said something,' her mind noted.  
  
~*~  
  
The sunset was beautiful, as always, and today Sara witnessed it in the comfort of her own bed, she lied in the hospital bed. She was exhausted, and she craved sleeping early that night. She turned on her side, there, her eyes landed on the navy blue package that Nick had brought earlier. With her right arm, she reached for it, then, she took out the silver mp3 player. With care, she slid on the headphones and pressed play. She adjusted the volume and made herself comfortable. As she shifted on her back, she heard a familiar voice resonate from the headphones.  
  
"Hi Sara," the voice drawled.  
  
"See, I knew you'd be curious to listen to Garth Brooks; just kidding. I'm happy that you're listening to this, and don't worry, I didn't actually put any Garth Brooks songs on here. Wow, what can I say, it's been a long and crazy ride, we're all happy to have you back. I just wanted you to know that if you ever need anybody, that I would be there for you. You must be wondering why I made this for you," there was a pause.  
  
"I made this because...well, I guess you'll see or…hear soon enough,"  
  
Pause.  
  
**  
L is for the way you look at me   
O is for the only one I see   
V is very, very extraordinary   
E is even more than anyone that you can adore   
  
Love is all that I can give to you   
Love is more than just a game for two   
Two in love can make it   
Take my heart and please don't break it   
Love was made for me and you   
**  
  
Sara couldn't help but smile, 'that's so corny' she thought. But her smile showed that although it was corny, it did touch her heart. Her heart was full, she was so happy. The events that have led up to this were now a distant memory, she was living in the present. The cheeks that once were covered with tears were now covered with radiance and love, heart hear overflowing with emotions. 'Say something' her mind screamed yet again.  
  
Then, as she continued to listen, she occasionally heard Nick's voice comment on certain songs. She was happy, she was glad that she stayed.  
  
Now she knew.  
  
~*~  
  
He was tired, after leaving the hospital, his day had turned horrendous. His muscles ached, not to mention the headache that he was currently suffering. He walked into the kitchen and took out a bottle of water, he looked at the time, 8:00. 'I wonder what's on TV' he questioned himself. He looked around the room and saw the flashing red light of his answering machine. '2 messages' it read. He smiled, pushed the button, and made his way towards the fridge.  
  
"Hi Nick, it's mom again. I hope you're all right, I've been trying to get in touch with you for days. Anyway, I have some news to share, please call me when you can." He wondered as to what the news was; nonetheless, he took out some leftover lasagna from the fridge. He heard a familiar voice fill the air,  
  
**  
L is for the way you look at me   
O is for the only one I see   
V is very, very extraordinary   
E is even more than anyone that you can adore   
  
Love is all that I can give to you   
Love is more than just a game for two   
Two in love can make it   
Take my heart and please don't break it   
Love was made for me and you   
**  
  
Sara's voice sang over the phone. He nearly dropped the plate he was holding; his heart jumped. He laughed, blushing, full of love and happiness. The day's events had melted away, the present was where his mind was at.  
  
Now he knew.  
  
~*~ FIN ~*~  
  
*---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*  
A/N – I know nothing about ECG's, and I'm pretty sure that they don't really indicate a heart jumping, but that's ok. I thought it was cute, just pretend.  
I have nothing against Garth Brooks, he's a very talented musician.  
The song, L-O-V-E by Nat King Cole was, I must admit, corny. And that is usually not my style, but I think that at least now it's blatantly in Sara's face that Nick does 'love' her. Sometimes having a flashing sign in front of you is exactly what you need. I don't own the rights to L-O-V-E, I simply just burrowed it. Litigation is not necessary.  
I hope that the ending is sufficient, happy endings are always best. I've left it like it is so you have the option to paint a post-ending tale that suits your taste.   
Writing Saving Sara has been a blast, and I am absolutely thankful and happy that everybody enjoyed it as well. I couldn't have imagined the copious amount of feedback that I have received, it has truly pushed me to write again, after neglecting to do so in years.  
THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU to everyone who has read and reviewed my project, hugs and kisses all around.  
Again, for the last time: love it, loathe it, and review it. - oceanwave 


	15. Saving Sara

Disclaimers: The characters are owned by CBS and the CSI producers, I simply borrowed them to tell a story.   
  
~*~  
  
Saving Sara, what started out to be a search for a person, soon turned into an individual quest for others, for love, and for infinite possibilities.  
  
For Grissom, it was a search for his 'daughter' the person who helped him see the fullness behind relationships and social interaction.  
  
Catherine sought to find support, a pillar of hope, she found Grissom, a person, who like her also needed support. In a way, they both found each other.  
  
For Warrick, his mistakes are what helps to define him as a person, it continues his quest for himself, for his purpose.  
  
Nick's journey was parallel to Sara's quest. His journey reflects a person's conscious decision of ignoring the wonderful things that we take for granted, his feelings for Sara were so simple, yet, he traveled a long hunt to discover it.   
  
Sara was being saved from herself. It should never take an extreme action to realize the fullness of life, to realize the simple happiness from just being able to breathe or walk. With her, she reflects that a person never deserves to be alone, even if that's what they think they want. Never loving is the continuous emptiness of the heart.  
  
Now you know.  
  
~*~ 


End file.
